A Fortnight
by jennycaakes
Summary: AU: Margaret Undersee is the princess of a starving country and only the marriage of her to a noble will save them. While the arrangement is being sorted out she is taken to her country manor, guarded by Sir Gale Hawthorne, a knight who doesn't know when to stop crossing lines. "Such confliction, isn't it? To be happy yourself or allow others to be." "It isn't confliction at all."
1. A Carriage

**Disclaimer: The story line is mine, the characters are not. **

* * *

Madge Undersee sits tall on the throne, or at least as tall as she can with her breath being squeezed out of her. Her corset is too tight, as is the tiara one of her servants shoved on top of her head. She won't complain though. As if being the princess of a dying country isn't bad enough, she doesn't want to make those who work for her more annoyed with her than they already are.

Her father is in the midst of conversing with some noblemen about marriage. Suitors from other countries. Madge does her best to look thrilled. Pleased at the idea of being sold off to some man from another country that will help fix their money problems. _It isn't going to be that bad_, she reminds herself, forcing her smile to appear bright and shining.

As her father talks and talks about the benefits of this 'exchange' Madge lets her eyes wander. Over by the door stands Gale Hawthorne, one of her father's many body guards. He stands tall, not suffocating under a corset like she is. His eyes don't even meet hers. Never really have.

She's spoken to him once or twice, heard the story of how he got his job by quickly raising through the ranks. All of his pay goes back home to his family. He lives in the guard towers by himself. He hates everything about this country, everything about _her_. She can tell by the look in his eyes that he'd rather be off somewhere else, doing something else. Elsewhere. Away from here. He's respectable enough of course, he has to be if he's going to be the king's favorite knight, but Madge has always known that underneath it all he's fuming. Must be.

But he's just so dammed good looking, especially in that uniform. Instead of the usual iron chest plate he wears, Gale is in some sort of leather outfit. Something her father commanded him to wear, she's sure. He would never break uniform unless otherwise instructed. Madge chews on her lip, despite the fact she's been scolded by her tutors for doing so, and watches as his grey eyes drift over the noblemen. Judging all of them, most definitely. Buying a woman. She laughs to herself at the disgust he's most likely feeling.

Moments later her father is done speaking. The suitors are guided out of the room by a set of knights still in their armor, and the area falls quiet. The king waves Gale over who is clearly more attentive than Madge – considering she hadn't realized her father was done the conversation with the men – and points toward his daughter.

"You'll be taking Madge to our home in the country," King Undersee tells him. The instructions are so vague she's sure Gale has been briefed beforehand. "You will stay with her a fortnight and then bring her back. I don't want her to be here with all the treaties that will be in order. Too messy."

Oh no, mustn't have the princess in range of eavesdropping. Her curiosity _would_ get the best of her.

"Of course, your majesty," the knight nods. Her father motions for her to stand and she does so gracefully.

"I trust you with my daughter," her father continues. "Keep her safe."

"With my life." Gale turns toward Madge and extends his arm. "Come, your carriage awaits."

Madge nods and accepts his arm, trying to walk as elegantly as she can in the shoes strapped around her feet. Madge waves over her shoulder to her father and then continues in silence with the man next to her.

At the carriage he's a proper gentleman, upholding the name of chivalry like all knights should. Gale pulls open the door for her and helps her up the step before cautiously joining. He takes the seat across from Madge and keeps his eyes out the window, not bothering to look at her. As usual.

As the wheels start turning, pulled by the horses up front led by the driver, Madge continues to study him. His jaw is locked and his eyes are stone cold. His olive skin looked nice against the color of his dark blue uniform. The kingdom's colors.

"Your name is Gale, correct?" she asks. Madge already knows the answer. She just wants to talk to him, make conversation. The ride will be very long if it is silent and Madge already spends enough of her time submerged in quiet. "Gale Hawthorne?"

"Yes, Princess," he nods. If he's shocked she knows his name it doesn't show. "At your service." His eyes continue to stare out the window. She chews on her lip again. "Something you needed?"

"No, just making conversation." Madge tilts her head at how bored he sounds. "You're one of my father's favorites, you know. He doesn't trust just anyone with me." And then suddenly, the knight snorts. Madge lifts her eyebrows, amused by the noise she so rarely hears from anyone. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing."

"I demand you answer my question," Madge says sternly in the most authoritative voice she can manage. She still isn't used to bossing people around like her father is.

Gale finally turns to meet her gaze, his eyes are light and his lips are tugging upward. "You won't be pleased with my answer, Princess. I'd rather spare you."

"Sir Hawthorne—"

"I was just _thinking_ how humorous it is that you say your father doesn't trust just anyone with you, and is off bidding you to the highest seller. He barely knows those men. I'm sure you can't even remember half of their names. And you're going to be married to one in less than a month." Madge clenches her jaw and continues to stare at him. "I told you that you wouldn't like my answer."

"That's a different circumstance," Madge tells him. "All of my suitors are of high nobility. And our country needs their money."

"So you're willing to just wed whoever will give it? What if he's indecent? Or a drunk?" Madge's jaw drops at his blunt speech. Quickly he corrects himself. "Sorry, Princess. It's just that—"

"Please, call me Madge." Gale stares back at her, his eyes wide at her words. "If you're going to be with me for a fortnight I'd rather hear my name, not my title."

"Madge." He tests the name in his mouth and the princess ignores the strange feeling it gives her. "I thought your name was Margaret."

"Please, I'm not ancient." His smile brightens at her speech.

"Then I may ask you to call me Gale," he responds.

"As you wish, Gale."

He smirks and says, "Madge."

The princess fights off her smile and crosses her hands in her lap. "You were saying something about my poor life choices," she quips. "You may continue now."

Gale laughs, shaking his head. "My apologies, Princess, if you thought I was degrading you. I was merely stating the fact that you're going to be wasting your life away with some old crone who doesn't love you."

Madge shrugs off the fact that he called her Princess again. It's a hard habit to break, she supposes. "I can see why you're my father's favorite," Madge mumbles, a very un-lady like thing to do. "You have such strong opinions. He's always favored those with wit."

"You mistake wit for realism," he tells her. "Princ—er, Madge, I simply do not understand the concept of marrying someone you do not love."

"I have no choice," Madge responds, pleased that he corrected himself with her name. "As I said before, our country needs money. I shall do whatever I must to make sure we are out of our debt and that we are prosperous once more."

"_But you do not love him,_" Gale stresses, using hand motions to do so.

"I could maybe one day," she hums. "The fact that he, whoever he turns out to be, is going to help our country is a very noble prospect. Don't you think?" Gale rolls his eyes and resumes glancing out the window. Madge chews her lip. "This is my duty," she tells him. "Just as it is your duty to be a knight. So your family will have money." His head snaps back so quickly to face her she's sure it could fall off his head. "It's as though I'm protecting my family, only on a much grander scale."

"It is not your duty to bind yourself to someone you do not wish to be with," he growls. "And please, _Princess_, leave my family out of this."

"I was merely making a comparison," she says lightly. "And yes, it is. One unhappy girl compared to the unhappiness of an entire country? A bit of suffering will be no trouble for me." Madge drums her fingers over her knee. "Isn't that how it is for you, Gale? You never wanted to be a knight."

"It's turned out must more enjoyable than originally thought," he mutters. "And I've changed my mind. Do not call me Gale."

"I'll do as I wish," Madge responds. "I think your name is lovely."

"I think you're crossing into dangerous territory," Gale bites back. "My family is mostly well tended to, as am I."

"When's the last time you saw them?" The muscle's in the man's cheek twitch as Madge holds her gaze. "It's been awhile then, I assume?"

"_Please_, Princess," he tries, but Madge is persistent.

"Do you have any siblings? Why does your father not head your household and you shoulder the weight?"

"He's dead," Gale thunders. "He died in the Great War many years ago, serving _your _father. I was but a boy. It took me many years to join the ranks but here I am." Gale gestures to the small space around them. "On a carriage on my way to a country house with _you_ while my family back home, wherever they are now, shivers on the cold nights and sweats on the hot days." Gale shakes his head but keeps his eyes directly no her. "I've missed my youngest sister's first steps. Did not get to teach my brothers how to hunt. I'm sure they barely remember what I look like."

"I'm sorry," Madge whispers. "I hadn't known." She hadn't meant to get him angry, not at all. That wasn't the plan. She just wanted him to understand that sometimes it isn't about what someone wants, rather than what is needed. Madge throws her shoulders back in an attempt to make herself look more regal. "I hadn't meant to upset you," she says. "Curiosity, that's all."

"I find it hardly fair that you exercise your power over me, making me answer your questions, while if I were to inquire about your life I could be beheaded," he says plainly.

"How cruel do you think I am?" Madge gasps. "We're merely making conversation; there is no reason to consider punishment for a simple question. Ask whatever you wish and I shall answer."

"You're giving me permission to speak freely, then?" Madge narrows her eyes in his direction and watches him smirk. They had already been speaking freely. "And you shall answer _all_ of my questions?" The princess tips her head into a nod. "Very well. Why are you so curious about my home life?"

"The way I live is an open book," Madge tells him. "I only think it proper I know more about my subjects." Madge straightens her posture and sighs, her corset is still much too tight. Suddenly she remembers that she doesn't have to be wearing the tiara anymore and pulls it from her head, resting it on the seat next to her.

"Why did you do that?" Gale murmurs, his eyes studying the hairpiece carefully.

"It was hurting me," she says simply. "Does that count as a question?"

"I was unaware we were counting." Gale straightens his spine as well. "But yes, I suppose that can count as a question." She crosses her legs and waits for another. "Are you not scared to marry?"

She hesitates. Madge has been raised knowing that it would happen one day. She would live in a foreign country with strange people. This is her duty. She isn't exactly scared, but she isn't looking forward to it either.

So she lies. "I am not scared," Madge says proudly. "I've known it would happen my entire life, there's no reason to fear marriage."

Gale purses his lips, clearly thinking about each question before asking them. It's not an everyday thing that a knight is allowed to ask questions such as these to the princess. "How old are you?" Her mouth hangs open as she processes what he's said. "You're to be wed. I'm just curious as to how old you are."

Again, she hesitates. "I'm 17."

"How noble of you to give yourself away to a man much older than you," he grits out. "All for the sake of your country."

"Why does my upcoming marriage fascinate you so?" she inquires.

He pauses. "It doesn't." Gale reaches up and scratches at the scruff on his jaw. "One of the few freedoms I have in this kingdom is the freedom to marry whomever I love. As the princess I had always assumed you had that privilege as well."

"Love is for children," she forces out.

Gale smirks. "I'm guessing you've never been in love, then."

Madge laughs, rolling her eyes. "And you have?"

"Once," he nods. The thought doesn't rest easy with Madge, making her stomach curl. Was she a peasant girl? A merchant? Has Madge ever met her? "She was a girl from my village," Gale continues when he sees the look on her face. "She fought in one of the many border wars. Her name was chosen from the manifest." Madge chews on her lip again, dread filling her. She must be dead, then. "One of the other boys from my village saved her life in it, or perhaps they saved each other. I always forget. They were married soon after. She loved him."

"Oh," Madge frowns. "I'm sorry."

"I had other things to do, however," Gale responds, lifting his shoulders. "It wasn't meant to be, that was something I had to accept." Madge reaches up to fiddle with the tips of her hair. "I'm happy for her. Finding true love in a place like this."

"A place like this," Madge echoes emptily. A poor country with starving people. Dry lands. Sickness. Though she doesn't say these things out loud her throat still constricts. "This is why I don't have time for such foolish things as love. A place like this." Madge shakes her head. "My people deserve better and I will shoulder the weight for them."

"Such confliction, isn't it?" Gale muses, glancing out the window again. "To be happy yourself or allow others to be."

"It isn't confliction at all," Madge insists sharply, clenching her hands together. "Why do you not understand that? There are no second thoughts to this, no hesitation. I will wed whoever my father selects and that's the end of it. Your thoughts and judgment about the situation will change not a thing."

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" the knight suddenly asks. Madge's cheeks flush and her fists loosen. "Not your father or mother, but a boy. A real kiss."

"I don't see how that has anything to _do_ with—"

Gale cuts her off with a bright laugh, high and loud through the carriage. "You've never even been kissed and you're willing to bed with a total stranger. My, my, Princess," he shakes his head, a dangerous smile on his lips, "do you even know what you're getting yourself into?"

The rest of the ride is mostly quiet.

* * *

At the country home Gale resumes his quiet knight-like attitude. He asks no more questions. He barely looks her way other than the moment he has to help her down from the carriage. The driver bids his farewells and announces his return in two weeks' time. Gale carries her luggage from the carriage to the home and leaves it in her bedroom, excusing himself so he can go to his quarters and unpack.

The servants that reside fulltime in the country home unpack the princess's belongings while she changes into something less formfitting. The second the corset is untied she takes a deep breath, pleased to be able to breathe freely again. Quickly she is clothed into a flowing skirt and a fitted blouse. Something blue. It's always blue.

Madge departs from her servants and sneaks downstairs, away to the garden. It's rare she has a moment to herself that she enjoys. A moment of quiet to observe the beauty that still remains in her kingdom.

Madge sighs pleasantly as she lowers herself to the stone stool, allowing her eyes to drift back and forth over the flowers in the yard. A long time ago when her mother, the queen, was not bedridden, they had planted these flowers together. Tended to the garden's needs. Weeded and watered and plowed. But now neither the princess nor the queen has time for such acts and those who reside in the home take care of it for them.

"Lovely garden," a voice rings out high. Madge lifts her head and finds Sir Hawthorne leaning against the side of the house. He's changed too, into a loose fitting shirt with ties at the top and some brown pants. "I hear you planted it yourself."

"When I was young, yes," she nods. He takes a few steps over but doesn't take a seat with her. That would be impolite unless she were to invite him. And honestly, she doesn't feel like inviting him. She's still a bit sour from the ride. "Will you be stalking me for the next two weeks, then?"

"Stalking, no," Gale shakes his head. "Guarding, yes. This is my job and I'm getting paid extra for it."

"And if I were to excuse you…?"

"Your father's word is law, not yours. I'm with you for the fortnight. Sorry _Princess_," he grins. Madge rolls her eyes and readjusts how she sits. She can feel his gaze on her and it's unsettling. "Are you going to invite me to sit or will I be standing here the next few hours?"

She feigns a gasp, "Sir Hawthorne you are most blunt and very distasteful. I suggest you learn your manners when talking to a princess." Ignoring her words the knight crosses the yard and takes the seat next to her. "Remember that conversation we had earlier? You were scared you'd be punished for a question. I fear, _Gale_, that your actions are much more dangerous than your words."

"Then invite me to sit," he says quietly. "Unless you wish for my head to be ripped from my body."

Madge shudders at the thought. Beheadings make her queasy. "You may sit," she murmurs. Gale is obviously amused with her response and laughs. "You're the strangest knight I've ever met," she tells him.

"And why's that?"

"You seem to have formed your own rules and follow those, rather than the ones that are already enforced." Madge taps at her chin. "Must have something to do with your upbringing."

"Yes, that's it. I'm clearly filth of the earth due to my upbringing."

"You speak out of turn," Madge proclaims, blatantly ignoring what he's said. "You tease and taunt me. Pry. Act as though this is a game. Like you wouldn't mind being discharged from the royal guard. I know no other knight that would behave this way and they all happen to have been part of the nobility beforehand."

Gale smiles, one that isn't playful at all, but rather bright and cheerful. "Perhaps my upbringing _does_ have something to do with it," he nods. "Or perhaps I'm trying to give you one last chance at happiness before you sell your soul to save your country."

Madge scoffs, standing up and pointing down at him. "Do not talk to me as if I am a floozy, Sir Hawthorne, because I assure you that I am not!" Women on the street do not even deserve to be talked to in such a belittling manner. "Nor am I a child and I will not be demeaned by someone like you! I am your princess! You _will_ respect me!"

"Then do something about it," he smirks. "React. Report me. Tell your dear old father. If you send a message tonight it will be sure to arrive by tomorrow." She drops her finger from him and drops her jaw at the same time. "Go on. I'll call for some parchment if you'd like."

She scoffs again, or is it a gasp, before taking a step back. "You're infuriating," she announces. "I'm going to my chambers do not follow me."

Gale smirks. "As you wish."

* * *

_A/N: This started out as a oneshot request and I ended up just writing and writing and writing and now I can't stop. There's a set plot and this won't be more than 10 chapters long. I'll be surprised if it's more than 8. I hope you enjoy it, even though it's a little strange! It's fun to toy with. Who doesn't love AU's? Will be updated every Monday and will not interfere with my other fics, considering I already have most of this written. x_


	2. A Slip-up

Madge spends the next two days in her room browsing the books she has by the side of her bed. She fears that if she leaves her room then she'll have to encounter Sir Hawthorne again. There's something about the way he carries himself that absolutely makes her skin crawl. Neither in a good way, nor a bad way. Just crawl. She's never encountered someone who made her want to fuss and argue. She's never even_ held_ a debate before, for it is un-ladylike. As a princess she's been trained to hold her tongue, but with him she feels the need to fight back.

The princess lounges on her futon and skims over the words of _Frankenstein _for about the hundredth time when suddenly she feels the room shift. Her eyes pick up and dart toward the door where it hangs open, and the man she hadn't been hoping to see leisurely rests against the doorframe.

"Princess," he nods. Madge closes her book and sits up, keeping her eyes on him. "The door was open, I assumed that meant I was allowed in."

"You assumed wrong," she murmurs. Though she doesn't wish to start trouble she's going to have to scold her servant later. Leaving the door open. Such a foolish mistake. "You may go."

"Ah, but the air in here is musty and it's ever so lovely outside. Won't you join me?" Madge fiddles with her hair but says nothing. "You're going to go stir crazy if you keep yourself locked in your room." Still, she stays in her seat. "Please. Do not shut yourself out from the world because I stepped out of line."

"You've learned your lesson, then?" Madge smiles to herself. Perhaps this will be easier than she had thought. "How _have_ you been keeping yourself busy these past few days?"

"Considering the help around here is _no_ fun at all, I've found ways. You have a marvelous library downstairs," he reports, remaining in his spot by the door.

"I hadn't known you could read," Madge responds. Gale's eyebrows lift on his forehead before he smiles just a bit. Slowly she eases off of her futon and stands tall, brushing her hands down her thighs and straightening her skirt. "I suppose I could go outside for a bit." Gale smiles brightly this time, offering his arm to her when she reaches him. Madge accepts it, and then the two ease down the steps together. "Any word from the castle?"

"None," Gale shakes his head. "Are you expecting something? A letter?" Madge frowns and shakes her head as well. She had hoped that maybe her mother would write, or her father would fill her in on the details before she arrived home and was just expected to adapt to the wedding plans. But that doesn't appear to be the case. Once they're outside again Gale turns to her. "Is there something you wish to do?"

Madge gazes around the yard and taps at her chin. "Are the horses ready?"

Gale nods. "Since you've arrived," he says. As they start toward the stable he smiles and Madge can't help but notice. When questioned about it he merely responds, "I didn't know you could ride horses."

"My father had someone train me when I was young," she tells him. When they reach the stable the stable boy sets everything up. Two horses. One for her, and one for the infuriating man who's going to be tagging along. She wonders if he'll be able to keep up. As he prepares them Madge glances back toward Gale who now stands a few paces away from her, staring back with a strange intensity. "You look as though you have a question," she muses. "You may ask, if you do."

"I have no question," he states, though it's clearly a lie. She can tell by the gleam in his eyes. Perhaps she can get him to ask later.

Soon enough the horses are ready and Gale helps her onto hers. The way he suddenly holds his tongue makes her curious but she won't say anything. It must be the fact that others are around, and that others could report him for it if she won't. And he already knows that she won't. It was a test. She knows that now. He was testing to see how far he could push her.

The moment she is on her horse she tugs on the reins and it rockets from the stable. Madge hears a grumble behind her but the second she's out of the stable she smiles. Maybe she can lose him. She knows these trails like no other. Quickly Madge whips the reins on her horse and he speeds up, darting down the trail as fast as he can. It's been awhile since she's ridden but all the small details of control come back to her easily. She knows that she'll hurt in the morning but doesn't care at the moment, urging her horse to run faster. Soon enough they disappear down the trail, twisting and turning and hopping over logs and rocks with ease.

When she reaches the lake she tugs on the reins, slowing down her horse. Madge smiles at the pristine quality of the water, and then slowly hops off the horse on her own. She needs no knight to help her from her steed. After landing on the ground she ties her horse to a tree, allowing him to graze on a bit of grass, before making her way over to the lake.

It's nice to see something so clean when the land in her country is often dirty. Her people use the lakes to bathe in, as well as drink from. They run dirty within a few days. Madge lowers herself to a rock and drags her fingers through the cool water. It's a bit hot out. Maybe if she had something else to wear she could ease into the lake to cool off. But she doesn't. And Madge doesn't know how to swim, so there's no real point in getting in the water. Not only that but she's sure her _knight in shining armor _will arrive any moment.

As she unties her shoes and pulls off her stockings so her legs can breathe, Madge hears the sound of a horse approaching. The noise doesn't startle her in the least.

"Princess," Gale grunts as he throws himself from his horse. He barely ties the horse to the tree he's in such a hurry to reach her. "You cannot just do things like that, running off into the wilderness on your own! You're lucky that I know how to track or you could've spent hours out here alone!"

"Oh, Gale," she hums, not even lifting her head. "I know these trails like the back of my hand."

"Yes, but lately with the country in an uproar anyone could've been here! Beggars, cults! Wild animals, even!"

Madge turns her head and instantly freezes. "The country's in an uproar? Since when?" Gale slowly makes his way back to the tree and tightens the ties of his horse before crossing the clearing over to her. Madge lifts her feet from the water and crosses her legs. "I know you heard my question."

"I've also been instructed not to answer it," he murmurs. "You weren't supposed to know."

"Well it's a shame that you've mentioned it, then!" she shouts back, her hands balling into fists. "How long has my country been in chaos? Why have I not been informed of this?" The knight lowers himself to a rock just across from her, staring down at the lake. "My father specifically told you not to tell me of this?" Slowly, he nods. And she knows that she cannot ask again.

Is that why the news of the wedding was suddenly thrown at her? Of course Madge had known for some time that she was to be wed to a stranger from another country, but she hadn't thought that to be for years. Country in a panic? What for? Is there a war going on that she doesn't know about? Why has she been secluded from all of this? Taken to a house in the country to keep her curiosity from getting the best of her?

Gale turns lifts his eyes from the lake and finally looks toward her. She hasn't retracted her gaze ever since the news of her country. She knew it had been bad but she never could've imagined _this_ bad. Suddenly his head turns away from hers and she watches his cheeks turn red.

"How long have you been indecent?" he murmurs. "Your father would skin me for being around you in this state."

Madge furrows her eyebrows and glances down at herself. "Good God, you can see my legs. Send in the royal guard to have you arrested," she grumbles. "There are more important things than the fact that my legs are exposed," she tells him. "Such as the fact that my country is a mess. But no! You focus on my legs!" Madge growls and leaps to her feet, leaving her stockings and shoes by the rock so she can pace. Damn men. "The priorities of the people around here are driving me _mad_!"

He chuckles to himself, shaking his head yet not lifting his gaze from the lake. It seems he hasn't forgotten his knightly training after all, no matter how discourteous he was to her earlier. "You're lucky you're the princess," he says. "People like me would be killed for saying things like that."

"Oh, hush," Madge snaps. "My father is a very lenient king, very loving and kind. He wouldn't harm a hair on your head."

"No, but your father isn't the one who makes all the calls."

She gasps. "My father is the _king_. What he says is law!" Madge marches over to him and jabs her finger into his chest. "It appalls me how disrespectful you are to a man who is so patient with you! A man who favors you!" Gale lifts his eyes to meet hers, but before they do they scan over her legs. She holds her ground and doesn't allow her cheeks to turn pink. "Oh, every time I think that maybe you are a proper knight after all you just turn out to be an impolite boy."

"You are less informed than you think, Princess," he murmurs quietly. Only at the sound of his husky voice do her cheeks heat up. "Professors and tutors have taught you what your father wanted you to learn, and only that."

"Then how about _you_ teach me the rest, hm?" She chews down on her lip as he stands, and lifts her head to meet his gaze. She hates feeling as though he looks down on her. "I'm a good listener. You'll only have to tell me once."

"My job is to keep you safe, not to educate you."

She stares at him a moment, trying to unravel the many layers of the knight. Not only is he infuriating but he seems to know more than he lets on. He's playful but only when he wants to be, and rude and crude and very confusing.

Madge lets out a huff of breath and starts back to her shoes and stockings. "I would like to return to the house now," she tells him as she lowers herself to the rock so she can make herself decent again. "So I can continue to lock myself in my room. It turns out the only person I can tolerate is myself." Gale watches her as she rolls the nylon up her legs and then ties her shoes. "Don't look at me like that," she grits out, not even lifting her gaze.

"And how am I looking at you?" he asks.

"Like it's a miracle I know how to dress myself," she barks, finally looking up. Shock is plastered on Gale's face as she goes to stand. "Princess or not, I am a _human_ and I wish to be treated as one." She marches over to her horse but Gale quickly follows. "Don't bother, I have no reason to rush." She unties her horse from the tree and leaps onto him before Gale even has a chance to offer his assistance. "I'll see you back at the manor."

"Princess—" Gale protests, but Madge is already bolting away. Back toward the home. Away from him.

* * *

Madge learns how to sneak from her room late at night to retrieve more books from the library, that way she doesn't have to run into the knight.

Infuriating is literally the only word she can conjure that describes Gale Hawthorne. It's as though he knows how to rile her up. Just what to say that leaves her conflicted between conversing more with him or storming off to her room like a child. There aren't many people who will hold a decent conversation with her, let alone allow her to actually think about the words that she's spewing out. Every answer she has is normally pre-calculated, but now she's spending the time calculating things out herself.

It's late. She has no concept of time, Madge is just aware that it's dark outside. The manor is quiet, though, so she's assuming that everyone is asleep. Hopefully Sir Hawthorne is one of those people.

She tiptoes from her room down to the kitchens. Her stomach has been grumbling even though her servants bring every meal to her room. She's craving something sweet. A pastry of sorts. Surely something will have been stored and she can easily find it.

As she reaches the kitchens she rifles through the cabinets until she finds a small cake. It's not as though she'll eat all of it. Just a bite or two, and maybe a cup of cocoa alongside it. It's difficult to maneuver through the room with only the light of a candle and that of the moon streaming through the window. After glancing over her shoulder once she settles onto a stool preparing to eat when Madge suddenly hears footsteps.

"The princess has a sweet tooth," a voice murmurs coolly. Madge groans before she can stop herself.

"Why are you awake?" she asks the knight as he eases into the kitchen. "It's late. You need your rest."

"I only need as much rest as you do," Gale responds, rifling through the cabinets. "And considering you've been locking yourself in your room like a child I need no rest at all." She frowns, watching the candle light flicker across his face. "I have trouble sleeping," he tells her, all teasing gone from his voice. "There's a special herbal tea that clears my mind. It just so happens to be a coincidence that you're here tonight, for I am here mostly every other."

Madge readjust in her seat. "It seems every time I learn something new about you that it is a depressing fact," she says quietly.

"And it seems every time I learn something new about you, you end up running off to your room before I can further analyze it."

"Is that so?"

"It is," Gale nods. "For example, you're very strong minded. Stubborn. I hadn't originally known that of you. And uneducated on the things that matter such as the state of your country and how weddings go." Madge frowns.

"Every time we have a conversation I question how it is that _you_ were given the task to watch over me," she tells him gruffly before shoving a bit of cake into her mouth. "Or how you were able to pass your knightly tests in the first place." Madge shakes her head and swallows, confused as to what compelled her to talk with her mouth full. "_Or_ why it seems you have multiple personalities that you wear whenever speaking with me."

Gale chuckles and leans across the counter on his elbows after starting a kettle. "Would you like me to tell you something pleasant about myself, then?"

Madge smiles. "I would _love_ for you to tell me something pleasant about yourself," she says.

His smile drops. "There is nothing pleasant about my life," he deadpans. Madge's jaw drops as they stare at each other, and then suddenly he laughs again. "Goodness, Princess, I'm only joking. Learn to laugh." Slowly she closes her mouth, blinking in confusion at the man in front of her. "You want to know something nice? Alright, one time when I was still living at home I was out fishing with my younger brother. He was still too young to hunt so we sat at the riverbank fishing. He caught his first fish and was so excited that he toppled into the water and lost the fish." Gale smirks. "I don't remember ever having laughed so hard."

"You laughed at your brother's misfortune," Madge states, though her lips curl upward. "How cruel."

"You would have laughed too, Miss," he says, shaking his head at the memory. "Even Rory laughed."

"Rory," Madge says quietly after a pause. "Is that his name? Your brother?" Gale hesitates, realizing his slipup before nodding. "Lovely name. I've always wanted a sibling."

Preferably a brother. That would leave him to do all of the kingdom work and she could sit back and relax. Instead of Madge marrying some man, he would marry some woman. That seems selfish, but at least he wouldn't have to leave home. Leave his family. He would still be in charge. Madge sucks in a sharp breath and reminds herself of her duties to her country. This will save them.

"What are you thinking about?" Gale suddenly asks. His voice is soft, as is his gaze. But when she looks into his eyes he drops his head, a ghost of a smile spreading across his face. "Sorry. I hadn't meant to be blunt."

"No," she shakes her head. "You weren't. Just… just the wedding. Again." His features darken a bit as his gaze returns to her. "It's awfully close now, isn't it?" Gale shrugs, turning away from her and racing to the kettle before it gets too hot. "Gets closer with every day."

"Nervous, yet?" Gale calls over his shoulder. "Marrying a stranger? Being shipped off to a foreign land like you're property?"

"Hold your tongue," Madge murmurs angrily. "Why do you always have to steer the conversation negatively? For the last time, Sir Hawthorne, I'm doing this for my people. Especially now that I know not all is calm in the lands. This will make it better."

He turns to face her, his grey eyes flickering in the candle light. "But what if it doesn't?" Madge blinks, confused at his words. She waits for him to explain but suddenly his face slackens, and he shakes his head. "Never mind."

"No, continue," she urges.

"The walls have ears, Princess," he whispers, gazing around the room. "I've already said too much as it is. Besides, you don't want to know what I have to say. It will break your fragile little heart."

Gale turns away from her again and fixes himself a cup of tea, leaving Madge's mind reeling with questions. She studies him as he prepares his drink with ease. A sprinkle of herbs, some powder from somewhere. Sugar. It smells quite good. But she has her cocoa and is determined to finish it. Chocolate isn't cheap.

His sleep shirt is tight on his back and Madge watches his muscles flex as he stretches up high to retrieve certain elements for his tea. There is no denying that Gale Hawthorne is attractive. His olive skin and his raven hair. The deep undertones to his voice and brilliant sound of his laughter. Knightly, yet still human enough to cross boundaries and see how much he can get away with. Madge chews down on her lip as he reaches up again, allowing the hem of his shirt to lift a bit higher than normal.

Something catches her eye and before she can stop herself she asks, "What's that?"

Gale spins so quickly he nearly drops whatever herb he was reaching for. "What's what?"

"On your back," she says. "It was a scar."

Gale blinks before returning to his tea, adding the last substance quickly. "There are many."

Madge waits until he returns to face her, cup in hand, before asking another question. "What from?"

"A time before I was knighted," Gale says. "I had broken a law. Been caught. Punished." Still, she waits for him to continue. "I was whipped."

She shakes her head. "My father does not punish with whippings," she says, almost angrily. How dare he even kid?

"No, he does not," Gale nods, "but others do. Men from other countries that think they rule your land." Suddenly his lips are being lowered to his teacup. "And yet again I've said too much," he murmurs after a hearty gulp.

"Continue," she nearly pleads, desperate for a grip on more information.

"Walls," Gale gestures around them. "I like my insides on the inside." Gale continues to sip at his tea, though his eyes stay firmly on her.

The way he stares so intently makes her cheeks warm but in the moonlight she's sure he doesn't notice. It isn't often she is able to spend so much time alone with a boy nearly her age. Especially one like him who knows just what to say to leave her wanting more.

"Then take me to a place without walls," Madge says calmly.

Gale's throaty chuckle washes over her. "It's very late, Princess. You should be getting your rest."

"Tomorrow, then," she insists. "I have a right to know, do I not?"

"Your father has instructed otherwise," Gale murmurs. "No matter what I wish for you to know I have orders."

"Because you clearly seem the type to follow rules," Madge grumbles. "Gale," she doesn't want to sound desperate but the way he insinuates things to be not as they seem is making her antsy. "Would you want to know? If the roles were reversed and you were being kept in the dark, wouldn't you want to be shown the light?"

He hesitates, blinking a few times and running his thumb around the rim of his cup. "You should rest," he says again. Just quietly. And Madge can hear the confliction in his voice. "Finish your cocoa. We'll talk in the morning."

* * *

_A/N: Monday update, as promised. Thanks to whoever reminded me! A bit of bonding in this chapter, and there will be some deeper convos next. I know a lot of you are iffy about the entire storyline or whatever but I quite like it so I'm going to keep with it. Hope you enjoy it!_


	3. A Spark

As the two start for the gardens Madge finds herself overly eager to find out what Gale has to say. Secrets within the kingdom. Something she had never thought possible. And she is going to learn them. She is going to know more about her country. She should've known them before, yes, and the fact that she has to learn them from a knight is a bit disheartening, but she's getting desperate at this point.

Tomorrow it will be a week without word from her father or mother. Madge isn't sure if this is good or bad.

Madge holds Gale's arm as they stroll to the bench they had sat at together at the beginning of the week when they arrived. It isn't too far from the house so Madge is sure he isn't going to be discussing anything too important.

"You know, Princess," he says as they sit, "I know very little about you." Madge frowns and removes her hand from his arm, folding them lightly in her lap. "I find that I cannot tell you what you wish to know until I'm sure I can trust you."

"Trust _me_?" Madge nearly scoffs. "Because I am clearly such a threat!"

"I have codes of honor I must follow," Gale continues. "You do not. All I know is that you're the princess." Madge lets out a deep breath of air, reminding herself that losing her temper with this man is not going to get her anywhere. She has to be patient and put up with his silly games. "What is your favorite color?"

"How on earth is me telling you my favorite color going to allow you to _trust _me?" she spouts out before she can help herself. Gale lifts his eyebrows and scratches at his jaw, waiting for her to answer. "Pink," says Madge softly after feeling overly judged by the look on his face. "My favorite color is pink." Gale opens his mouth to ask another question Madge interjects and asks, "What is yours?"

His eyes lighten and the smallest smile slips across his face. "Green. Like the forest." Madge lifts her eyes to the tree line, studying the way all of the shades of green come together to make one. Naturally lovely. "What do you, as the princess, do in your spare time?" inquires Gale. "Archery? Are you trained in defense? Or are you alright with sitting and reading a good book?"

Archery. Madge laughs. "I'm not trained in defense," she says. "The only weapons I've ever even held were my father's swords. When he found me with them he yelled so loud his face turned red." She blushes a bit. "Apparently training like that is un-lady like."

"You haven't answered my question," Gale murmurs.

"Oh. I play the harp."

"The harp?" Madge nods. "Interesting. Was it hard to learn?"

"No. It's very calming. I wish I had one here," she says, fiddling with her fingers.

Playing the harp gives her something to do with her hands. It's an instrument that creates to most beautiful noises, and the fact that Madge is the one producing them makes her feel very proud of herself. As though she can contribute one way or another even if it isn't in the most hands on way. Music fills people with happiness. Even if it's just a bit.

When she looks up from herself Madge realizes she's zoned out. Gale licks his lips and suppresses a smile before asking his next question. "Do you like your life?"

"Do I…?" Madge trails off, trying to process the knight's question. This has taken an interesting turn. Does she like her life? "What's not to like? I have food and a home to stay in. A bed. Luxuries others do not." Chocolate. Numerous outfits. Musical instruments. Baths in tubs. "Everything I'll ever need is provided for me," she continues quietly.

"That does not mean you do not like your life," Gale says sternly.

Madge blinks, staring down at her hands as if they'll provide her with some sort of answer. "It's a bit… secluded," she finally conjures. She can't recall the last time she had a friend. There were plenty of girls her age in the nobility, they attended many functions at the castle, but that doesn't mean they spoke with her. "I feel as though my title intimidates people sometimes," Madge continues, unsure of where these words are coming from. "With my mother ill and bedridden and my father constantly busy…" she trails off, suddenly overwhelmed with an ache in her stomach. "It's quiet," she finally finishes.

"I can see why you always feel the need to be talking then," Gale says softly. And it's the pity in his voice that upsets her. Madge lifts her eyes to meet his as Gale reaches forward and grabs her hand. The contact startles her but she does not falter in her gaze. "Are you lonely?"

Madge's eyes feel as though they're pricking with tears but she refuses to retract her stare. "No," she lies, and then pulls her hand from him. She has always been taught not to complain. She will not allow herself to feel weak. Not allow this man to pity her for her loneliness. "I'm not."

"Madge, I hadn't meant—" he cuts himself off when her eyes narrow at his name. Madge. It sounds so divine in his mouth. But quickly he corrects his mistake. "Princess," he breathes, his eyes filling with confliction. "You do not have to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable. That is not my goal."

"Then what is your goal?" she asks, her voice hitching at the last word.

"As stated earlier I just wish to know more about you," Gale insists. "Everyone just refers to you as the princess when I know for a fact that there's a girl deep down in there somewhere."

She laughs a bit, dry and airy. "I'm not very interesting," Madge tells him. "Not at all. Why anyone would want to know me, let alone _marry_ me, is completely over my head."

And suddenly, her words hit her in the gut. Madge sucks in a deep breath and drops her head into her hands, a clear sign of defeat. How stupid can she be? Her future husband doesn't want to marry _her_; he wants to marry a _princess_. It could be _any_ princess. Any girl of nobility. He will not care that she likes to play the harp, or that Shakespeare's plays are her favorites. He will not question about her favorite color or wonder if she's lonely. He does not care. Will not care.

And Madge tries to remind herself that this is for her people. To end the starvation and high taxes and sickness. To make their lives better. But it isn't helping much. She sits next to Gale Hawthorne, a knight who may not have meant for her to breakdown, and tries her hardest to hold her tears. Only she can't do it forever.

Madge excuses herself through a trembling voice but is stopped abruptly by someone's hold around her wrist. She glances up through her golden bangs and water filled tears and pauses. She's too upset over her impending future that she has no strength to scold him for being a brute.

"Come with me," Gale murmurs, tugging her forward and away from the stone bench in the gardens.

"What? What for? Please, release me and—"

"You don't deserve this," Gale says quietly, pulling her around so she can face him. Tears drip down her face she feels painfully embarrassed to be seen in front of him like this. "You deserve to know the truth," Gale tells her, pulling her face into his hands. His thumbs glide up her cheeks and wipe away her tears gently. Madge's eyes flutter shut at his touch. Careful. Gentle. She's never been comforted like this before. Madge feels him step closer and her hands reach out for his shirt, desperate to pull him closer. Closer. But he stops her. "Not here," he breathes, pulling her face up to watch him. "Come. I'll tell you everything."

* * *

Somehow Gale's hand finds hers and Madge has no willpower to let it go. They walk into the woods together on the trail Madge rode on with her horse. His hand is rough, warm. Strangely comforting. She's never held hands with a boy before, not unless it was a quick shake after an introduction at a ball or something of the sort.

Madge wonders how he got the calluses on his palms. Hunting? Fighting? His life before knighthood? Maybe she'll ask him. Maybe he'll tell her.

They reach a log and Gale lowers her to sit, finally releasing his grip on her hand. She feels oddly empty with this lack of link now. He paces in front of her and throws some glances over his shoulder to guarantee that they're alone, and then he finally starts talking.

"There is man named Cornelius Snow," Gale starts sternly. "He's been a king for a very long time and loves nothing more than his power. He is ruthless, he's controlling, and he's very influential."

Madge reaches up and swats at her eyes. Though her tears stopped falling a while ago they're still wet and pink. "What does this have to do with me? My people?"

"For as long as I can remember he's been taking half of our crops, half of our taxes." Gale shakes his head before pulling his fingers through his hair. "I hate to be blunt but our country is poor. We can't afford that so your father lied, told the other king that he was giving him half when he was only truly giving him a quarter, or maybe ten percent." Gale turns to Madge and frowns. "It's a risky thing to do, to lie to him like this. Your father believes if he marries you off to one of his noblemen that… that perhaps he won't be so harsh on the taxes."

Madge has never heard of this man before. This Cornelius Snow. "If I don't marry the man then what will happen?" she asks.

"Maybe nothing, maybe something." Gale shrugs and says, "Anything's possible. He could storm our country and take power or he could continue to let us starve and die out. We're not very beneficial either way."

This can't be true. Madge is to marry and they will provide for her country. Will cut down taxes and restore peace and medicine and happiness. "My people…"

"Will not benefit from this marriage at all," Gale continues for her. "We're already allied with their country. They will do no more for us than they do now."

"And what do they do now?" Madge hisses, leaping to her feet and willing hot tears from her eyes. "Stand by and watch as we slowly fade away? _No_!"

"They provide protection," Gale murmurs quietly, stepping closer to her. His hands find her elbows, a gesture she had never thought to be comforting before this moment. "It's cheap and lousy in our parts but it's protection nonetheless."

"Protection from what?" Questions reel in Madge's mind and it gets harder and harder to breathe. "Isn't that what _our_ army is for? I'm so _confused_…"

"Madge," he whispers. Her eyes lift, creeping over his chest and up his neck until they find his.

She shakes her head. "Why are you telling me this?" she demands, though it's weak and feeble. "Why not have me marry the man and let me believe I did something good? Now it will be all for naught for _everyone_…"

"No," he exclaims, his face bright and hopefully. His hands slide up to her face. "You can tell your father not to go through with it! Write to him!" Madge takes a step backwards and allows his hands to fall. "You don't have to subject yourself to this! You can show your father that there are other ways to help your people, that there are other ways to make our country better that aren't through marriage!" Gale's too overjoyed to understand the expression on Madge's face. The complete and utter confusion.

"That's not how these things work," she tells him weakly. "I cannot just ask to marry whomever I wish, my father decides it for me. And chances are that it is already been done. There will be no annulment; I'll be wed shortly after we return to the castle."

"You don't understand," he stresses. "We can stand up again Cornelius Snow! We can show him that he doesn't control us!"

"No, _you_ don't understand," Madge murmurs. "One girl refusing to marry someone isn't rebellious, it isn't going to change a thing." She shakes her head and sighs watching as Gale sinks off of his cloud and returns back to reality. "You stand here all high and mighty, telling me about true love and happiness. Trying to guilt me into stepping away from a marriage. How many more tactics do you have to try, Sir Hawthorne, before you admit that this isn't about me at all? It's about _you_!"

Madge is _fuming_, pacing back and forth in front of him. "No, Princess—"

"_Princess_, exactly!" Madge cuts him off and waves her hands in the air. "I'm no rebellion leader! I do what I must and deal with it! And this marriage, whether it makes me happy or not, is how I'm going to do it!"

"Every rebellion needs a spark! This could be it! Don't you see? Your people will not benefit at all," Gale growls at her. "You'll be off in a rich country and won't have to look at all the death and starvation around you. You'll forget about this place. Forget about what your duty to _your_ country is."

"I will never forget about that," Madge hisses back. "And I will be _sure _to make sure my country is benefiting in some way. No matter what I have to do, I'll do it." Madge jabs her fingers into his chest. "Do not get angry with _me_ because I've caught _you_ in a lie! _You're_ the one who's unhappy. _You're_ the one who wants to change things!"

"Because without change there will be no era of peace!" he roars back. The tone of his voice is so sharp it knocks the wind out of Madge but he doesn't seem to noise. Her hand falls to her side as Gale continues to pace in front of her. "We're being treated as though we're slaves! And you're just going to keep on playing their game! Letting them control you!"

"I am not a piece in a game," she whispers, only because she knows her voice cannot get any louder. "I am a person. And I'm not playing anymore." Madge shakes her head slowly. "Take me back to the manor."

"_Princess_—"

"Take me back now or I will walk myself," she demands through a shaking voice. Madge stands still, waiting, and then slowly Gale steps to her side. He offers her his arm and Madge accepts it wordlessly.

* * *

_A/N: Hello! Happy Monday update! Yes the story is moving very quickly but that's the entire point. Trying to include various aspects of The Hunger Games into this without jeopardizing the plot. Which I feel like I've yet to do. So... yeah. Does their argument make sense? Thoughts? Predictions? _


	4. A Visitor

Madge is woken early in the morning with news of a guest arriving soon. She is plucked from her bed and deposited in the bath. Scrubbed until her skin is raw and pink. Painted to look like a doll. Shoved into the tightest corset she has. Brushed until her hair is shiny and smooth.

The tiara is pulled back through her hair and Madge tries her best to look pleasant. Her entire body pulses in pain. It doesn't help much that she didn't sleep at all last night.

_Your people will not benefit at all. You'll forget about this place. Already allied with their country. _

Her heart aches inside her chest. She was only able to stomach the thought of marrying a stranger because it would profit her people. Less taxes. An era of happiness. If what Gale has said is true then what is she giving herself away for? Not only is she going to remain unloved she's not going to be helping _anyone_. Why couldn't the cruel knight have just spared her? She has no business in rebellions or uprisings. She just wants to do some good.

Madge is guided from her bedroom and downstairs to the sitting room. It's late afternoon now, she had never thought preparations would take so long. She ate breakfast in her room as they scrubbed at her feet. It was very unpleasant. Then again, these servants haven't been working with Madge as long; they aren't used to getting her ready quickly.

"Who's coming?" she asks one of the women leading her. Suddenly Madge panics and nerves shoot through her system. Not her future husband? Why would he be coming to see her? That isn't how these things work.

"A nobleman passing through," she responds. "He is a citizen of a neighboring country but loyal to your father as well. It is said we treat him with the utmost respect." Madge nods as the woman scurries off to help make dinner preparations. Madge wonders how long she'll have to sit here like a statue before the man arrives. Wonders who he is, if she's met him before.

"Well look at you," a voice rings from across the room. Madge frowns when she finds Gale instead of the guest she's been made pretty for. "All prim and proper like a princess again, are we?"

Madge rolls her eyes and straightens her back. "Don't give me that attitude."

"Attitude?" Gale throws his head back and laughs. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're sour because I don't want to go along with your foolish plan," Madge murmurs, her eyes trying their hardest to avoid his gaze. She looks elsewhere. At the bookshelf, at the fireplace, at the other couches. Gale takes the spot next to her quietly. "You can't butter me up anymore, Gale, so don't even try." She wrinkles her nose and turns away from him. "The worst part of it all is that I almost believed you for a moment."

"Believed me?" his eyebrows lift. "What are you going on about?"

"Oh, you know," Madge frowns, snapping back to face him. "I almost believed that you actually _cared_ about what happened to me." She scoffs. "I was clearly mistaken."

"You weren't mistaken," Gale murmurs. Madge's eyebrows lift on her forehead but before she can question what he means a clambering of hooves is heard from outside. "That would be Sir Darius," Gale grumbles, leaping to his feet. "I've got to welcome him. Wait here."

As if she has a choice.

Gale disappears and Madge is left wondering about what he's said to her. Is Gale implying that he _does_ care for her? Of course not. He can't. She was all part of his game. Minutes later Madge hears laughter, good natured laughter that brightens her mood immensely. It turns out Sir Hawthorne and Sir Darius are friends of sorts.

"My, my," the nobleman says as he enters the room. Madge stands and presses a smile. Ah, yes, she has seen him before. "Princess, you look lovely as always." Darius strides across the room and grabs her hand before pressing a quick kiss to it.

"And you," she responds brightly. Gale waits in the back of the room. "How have your travels been? I hadn't known my father was expecting any visitors."

Darius smiles and runs a hand through his reddish orange hair. "He isn't."

* * *

Dinner is awkward, mostly. Scraping forks and knives over plates. Darius rambling on about something Madge doesn't fully understand, though she nods for it's her job. Gale casting her unreadable glances every once in a while. Madge keeps her mouth shut like a lady should.

She wishes she could take off her crown. It's painful and vastly unnecessary. "Princess," Gale murmurs at her discomfort. She lifts her eyes and meets his. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she nods.

Gale swallows a hunk of whatever meat he was devouring and lifts his eyebrows. "Are you sure? Perhaps you should turn in early." Madge wipes at her mouth with a napkin and shoots him a look.

"We're only just getting started," Darius says with a smirk. "How about a round of drinks for us all? Wine for the lady."

"Honestly, Princess," Gale tries again. "It's no trouble if you wish to sleep."

"The lady said she was fine," Darius says to Gale. He turns to one of the servants on the outskirts of the room. "A round of drinks and a glass of wine," he orders.

Gale shoots Madge another look. His grey eyes are wide and filled with something that resembles _pain_ that it instantly makes Madge reconsider. "Actually," she sets down her napkin gracefully. "I am a bit tired. Long day." It isn't fully a lie. Her body's sore from the preparations done to it. She turns to Gale. "Can you walk me to my quarters, Sir?" Quickly Gale nods, shoving himself away from the table and nearly tripping over his feet to get to Madge's seat. He scoots the chair out for her and helps her stand. "Goodnight, Sir Darius."

The redhead smiles. "Goodnight, Princess. If I am gone before you wake don't take it too personally." Before Madge gets too far from his grip Darius snatches her wrist, pressing another kiss to her hand. "See you again, one day. Hopefully soon."

Madge smiles, seizing her hand from his grip forcefully. "One day," she nods. Madge grabs Gale's arm as he leads her from the dining room.

Behind her she can hear Darius conversing with those who've remained. Madge's servants and the men that arrived with him. It sounds like he gets his drink after all, considering there's a large amount of cheering and a sound of cups on the table. Gale and Madge arrive upstairs and he deposits her in her room without a word before going to leave.

Madge coils her hand around his wrist and stops him in his tracks. "Hold on a moment," she whispers, pulling him back into her room. Gale strolls back in and closes the door lightly behind them. "What was that all about?"

"What was what about?" he asks. Madge releases her hold and Gale takes a step back, leaning against the doorframe. "You looked tired. I suggested you go to bed."

"You _wanted_ me to go to bed," she insists, taking a step towards him. Gale has nowhere to go so he only remains firmly in his spot. "What's going on, Gale? What do you have against Darius?"

"Absolutely nothing," Gale shrugs. Again she steps closer. "He's almost a friend of mine."

"Almost?"

"You're too curious for your own good, Princess," he murmurs. Gale's eyes dart quickly up to the crown resting on her head. "Keep your nose out of things that don't concern you." Madge frowns and lets out an exasperated sigh, yanking the prized item from her hair. Relief overwhelms her and a sigh of pleasure escapes her lips. She tosses it onto her dresser and pulls her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp lightly. "You should leave that on," Gale says through a cough.

"What for?" There's no reason to keep the contraption on her head, it's been giving her a headache. Besides, he wants her to go to bed. It'll come off sooner or later.

"Because with it off I find it harder and harder to remind myself that you're the princess."

Madge stares at him, letting her fingers drop from her hair. "What on _earth_ is that supposed to mean?" She balls her hands into fists and marches toward him again. "And why did you want me going to bed? You're awful at lying to me."

"Are you _serious_?" Gale asks, a hint of anger to his voice. "Are you absolutely _blind_? Darius was undressing you with his eyes the entire night! God forbid I was sick of seeing it!"

Madge lets her jaw drop and lets out a deep breath. "He was not!"

"He _was_!" Gale shoots back, throwing his hands in the air. "I don't even _want_ to imagine what your future _husband_ will do to you! He won't _have_ to be chivalrous! He'll just throw you on the bed as if you're some sort of wench and—" Gale is instantly silenced as Madge rears her hand back, slapping his cheek as hard as she can. Anger bubbles through her veins and her fingers still sting from the contact. "I didn't mean that," Gale murmurs quietly. His face is still turned from when she hit him.

"How am I supposed to know if you had or hadn't?" Madge hisses. She has never hit anyone before but she doesn't exactly regret it.

"Princess, I—"

She throws her hands in the air and takes a step back. "Just go," she bites out. Princess, princess, princess. That's all she'll ever be to him is a princess. "Get out. Let me sleep."

Gale nods in defeat, reaching for the door handle. But then he pauses. "Darius is here to see me," Gale says quietly. Madge keeps her ground, letting her eyes drill holes into him. "He isn't going to your castle; he's here to see me. He's one of Cornelius Snow's noblemen. And before you ask, no, not the one you'll marry. I haven't any idea as to who that will be."

Madge, still shaking with anger, blinks a few times. Gale hasn't turned to face her but that doesn't matter. He hasn't left yet. That counts for something. And he's talking. Speaking about the things she longs to know more about.

"You're still trying to figure out a way to dethrone him, aren't you?" she asks. "King Snow." Gale jerks his head into a nod. "No matter how ridiculous or life threatening it is."

"That's your opinion," Gale says, finally turning around. "I'm trying to make a difference. You don't know what it's like for the people so don't you _dare_ say that you do. I'm trying to _fix_ things. A lot of people are. Darius is among those people, there's a whole network of us through the lands."

"Then what did you need me for?" she scoffs, crossing her arms. "Just another pawn?"

"You were never just another pawn for me," he growls. "Christ, Madge," he breathes. Gale steps forward, and somehow his hands find her wrists. "Not from the carriage ride. Or the horse ride. Or even when I tried to talk you onto my side." Gale licks his lips and studies her eyes. Madge is frozen. Unable to move. "Darius was the one who wanted me to convince you to join us. It's why he came. To see if you accepted. But me? It wasn't about Snow at all. It was about you."

"About me?" Madge breathes. "That doesn't make any sense. I'm not—"

"I've loved before so I know what it's like," Gale whispers gently. "Why is it so hard to believe that I'm just looking out for you? You're fragile and soft, you don't need your heart broken. You deserve a chance, just like the rest of us."

"I'm stronger than you think," Madge forces out.

"Yes, I know. But being able to never love? It's a curse. It's cruel and unfortunate and I thought that maybe if I could get you to see that then you would tell your father not to go through with it. An arranged marriage is more or less a death sentence." Gale shakes his head and pulls her closer. "I just wanted you to save yourself."

The proximity he has to her is making Madge's thoughts go hazy and it's becoming ever more difficult to process what he's saying. "So you just wanted…?"

"I wanted you to make your own choices about a husband," he murmurs back. "You're young. You've got the rest of your life ahead of you. If it so happened that you joined my side the people would have more of a reason to fight. Yes, it would've benefited me greatly but it wasn't the main reason for my constant jabs." Gale pauses and reaches up to push a strand of her golden hair from her face and behind her ear. The gesture freezes her all over again. "You've never even _kissed_ anyone, Princess."

"Don't call me that," she chokes, snapping her eyes shut.

Gale's shoulders lift. "Force of habit," he tells her.

With her eyes closed it's easier to focus. Whether she's part of it or not, there's a rebellion happening. Throughout the lands. Not just her country but other countries as well. And they're going to stand up to this man, this _dictator_. King Cornelius Snow.

"What are you going to do?" Madge asks him, allowing her eyes to ease open. His body is still close to hers. From here she can catch his scent, overly woodsy despite the fact he's been at the manor the entire day. "If King Snow is so powerful he'll just crush you. All of you."

"It's a lot more complicated than that," he tells her. "There're plans that you wouldn't understand even if I explained them to you. And you wouldn't like them if I were to tell you." Madge chews the inside of her cheek and stares into his gray eyes. Gale meets her gaze and blinks a few times before sighing. "It involves assassination," Gale whispers. Madge lets out and takes a deep breath backwards, willing her chin not to quiver. "It's a necessity."

"Necessity," she repeats lamely, her heart heavy in her chest. "What about their families? Their children?" Madge pauses and inhales sharply. "What about you?"

"I won't be at any risk."

"What if you get exposed?"

Gale steps forward again as she chews on her bottom lip. "I won't," he repeats. "I'm a lot stealthier than you would think." Madge lets out a breathy laugh despite the situation, and clutches one of her arms with her freehand. "As for the men we'll be taking down," Gale shakes his head. "They've done a lot worse than just taking more taxes from some kingdoms. They're murders. They start wars just to watch people die. They willingly let people starve, as long as their own citizens don't notice." Gale swallows once and sighs. "It's got to stop."

Madge forces herself to accept this. She nods and closes her eyes again. Gale hasn't any reason to lie to her. These people are awful people. "Okay," she whispers.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she nods. "I want to see." Her eyes open slowly as she finds his. "I want to see the conditions my people are living in."

"Too dangerous," Gale immediately shoots her down, his voice sending her backwards again. "Whether or not I want you to believe me, which I do, it's much too dangerous to take you into a city. I'm still your guard and I refuse it."

"What about in a disguise? I could—"

"_No_," he barks. Again Madge feels all the air sucked from her lungs at his force. "It's too _dangerous_," Gale repeats. "I'm not going to risk your life. You'll just have to take my word." Madge nods weakly and fiddles with the tips of her hair. Of course she'll take his word. "What is it?" Gale asks after a moment. "You look conflicted."

"When is this going to happen?" she asks him. "This… this uprising. This attack."

"A day before I take you back to the castle," he tells her gently. "I'm to join them after you're safe and sound with your father's guards protecting you."

"Does my father know?"

"Yes," Gale nods slowly. Madge has more questions but they all die in her throat. She fears for his life and there's no point in denying it any more. The fear has rendered her unable to speak. "The less you knew the better, but it's too late for that now I guess. Darius thought if you were to reject the marriage proposal it would cause confusion in Snow's kingdom, leaving them more vulnerable. But at the same time you expose yourself and…" he trails off, rubbing at his face. "This entire thing is a mess. I'm only confusing you more."

"No," Madge insists. "It's nice. To know things."

Gale opens his mouth to say something else but there's a gentle knock on the door. Both spin toward the sound and Gale instantly distances himself, moving forward to open the door. On the other side stands one of Madge's servants, her eyebrows knitted when she sees who opens the door.

"Sir Hawthorne," she frowns. "What on earth are you doing in here?"

"Saying goodnight," he answers, straightening his spine and resuming his knightly behavior. "Sleep well, Princess," he says over his shoulder, barely making eye contact with the blonde.

Once Gale is gone her servant slams the door shut marching over to Madge angrily. "For goodness sake, Princess, what would your father think if he knew you were sneaking around with the likes of him?"

Madge gasps. "I am _not_ sneaking around, Velma! He walked me to my room after dinner, under my request!"

"You're to be wed soon," she snaps at Madge. "Sir Hawthorne is nothing but trouble!" Madge swallows down the angry words she wants to spew and only nods. "You look a mess. Get to bed."

"Yes, Velma," Madge says quietly, edging toward the dressing room to get changed.

* * *

_A/N: Happy Monday. This is being posted super early because I'm not going to be here Monday afternoon so I wanted to post it Monday morning c: Hope you like it! Reviews are always always always loved and appreciated. _


	5. A Shift

It's barely light outside when Madge decides she wants to spend the day submerged in her favorite books. A step outside of reality shall be nice, a break away from the sudden onset of rebellion that's infiltrated her mind. Her dreams have been wretched. Fires that burn down entire towns and homes collapsing on their occupants. They send shivers down her spine.

So to books it will be. Shakespeare, her favorite of course. She switches her favorite play around all the time, whether it be _Romeo and Juliet_ or _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. Today she's particularly looking forward to getting lost in the pages of _Hamlet_.

Madge sneaks from her room and tiptoes down the stone staircase, slipping into the library without pulling the door shut behind her.

She allows her eyes to scan the entirety of the room. She hasn't read three fourths of these books yet she's always drawn back to the same ones. However, it does appear that the library has been rearranged since the last time she was here, and it's going to take a bit longer to find the play she's looking for.

Madge is beckoned to breakfast when the sun rises but she insists they bring her biscuits to her. A few moments later she's rifling through the books on the shelves while nibbling on some bread. Every few moments she'll return to her plate which is a few shelves over and take a sip of tea.

"Looking for anything in particular?" one of her servants asks.

"Yes, but I'll find it on my own," she tells him. Good God, can't she do anything without the help of someone else? The man nods and then leaves her alone.

Around noon she finally finds the Shakespeare section. _Macbeth_, _Othello_, _King Lear_, _The Taming of the Shrew, The Tempest, Much Ado About Nothing_… Madge steps away from the shelf angrily when she can't find the one she's been looking for. Not one to give up, Madge glances around her at the other shelves. Maybe it was filed wrong. _The Merchant of Venice, As You Like It, _they have every piece Shakespeare has ever written! She's sure of it!

"Looking for something?" a voice rings over her shoulder. Ready to scold the servant again Madge spins around angrily to face him, only freezing when she finds Gale instead. "You seem overly frustrated."

She clamps her lips shut and lifts her shoulders slightly. "I'll find it eventually."

"If you say so," Gale hums. He takes the spot next to her and shoves something into the shelf before taking a nearby seat.

Madge allows her eyes to dart over to what Gale's just shelved and then sighs in relief. _Hamlet_. She pulls the play away from the others and cradles it against her chest. At the sound of Gale's laughter she faces him and narrows her eyes, confused. Then she remembers that this is the very play he just re-shelved.

"Did you like it?" she asks him, trying to get the pink from her cheeks. "_Hamlet_?"

"Of course," Gale nods. "That isn't the first time I've read it. I'm just surprised that it was the one you were looking for."

"I like everything Shakespeare has ever written," Madge tells him. She drops her gaze down to the book in her hands and smiles. _Hamlet_ has always been one of her favorites. "_Hamlet_ is no exception."

"Lots of death. It's a tragedy."

"Not everything in life has a happy ending," says Madge, glancing back up to him. Their eyes hold for a moment before Gale lifts his lips into a smile. "Sure, not everything is this… bloody, either, but there's just such raw emotion in it. Love and anger and confusion." Madge slowly makes her way over the seat across from Gale. "It gets me thinking about things I normally don't." She runs her fingers over the spine of the book. "To be, or not to be, that is the question."

There's a long pause before Gale responds.

"Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the sling and arrows of outrageous fortune…"

Madge glances up, shocked, and continues before he can, "Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them. To die, to sleep."

Gale smiles, glancing down at his hands. "No more. And by a sleep, to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to?" Her heart beats rapidly in her chest as Gale spouts out the words that took her so long to remember. "'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. To die to sleep."

"To sleep, perchance to dream," she whispers.

Gale picks up his gaze and nods at her. "Aye, there's the rub."

"How do you know that?" she asks quietly, her eyes locked with his. They haven't finished the soliloquy but her mind is racing so quickly she's not sure she'd be able to get through it all. "That soliloquy. It's my favorite…"

"You're not the only one allowed to enjoy fine entertainment," he grins. "_Hamlet_'s my favorite too."

Madge swallows, and with it go all the words she wanted to say. She licks her lips and blinks a few times before dropping her gaze to the play in her hands. Madge ignores the fact that her fingers are shaking and instead traces the title of the play with her eyes to keep herself busy. Something stirs in her chest but she can't quite place it. It makes her vision hazy and hands sweat.

"Interesting," she finally forces out.

"You know," Gale says as he stands, making his way over to the couch next to her, "some people think Shakespeare was a group of people rather than just one person." Madge orders herself to look up at him, confused as to why she is suddenly so nervous at his closeness to her. "That, or he was a woman."

"A woman?"

"Or that he never existed. There are so many conspiracy theories. Some say he was Sir Francis Bacon, actually."

Madge scoffs. "Shakespeare was Shakespeare. William Shakespeare. That's it."

Gale chuckles and runs his fingers through his raven-colored hair. "You just said you like Shakespeare because his works get you thinking about things you don't normally think about and here I am, giving you a chance to think about something, and you shoot me down." He shakes his head at her. "You're impossible."

Madge drums her fingers over the cover and considers this for a moment. "What about his grave, then? Who's buried there?"

Gale responds enthusiastically to her question, allowing their discussion to branch off into many different subjects. And though Madge never actually gets to bury her nose in the pages of _Hamlet _on this day, she finds herself much more entertained with the man seated across from her.

* * *

There are four days until Madge has to return home. Four days until Madge has to accept her place as a princess and marry a stranger. Four days until this fortnight is over.

No matter how many times her eyes scan over the words of this play that she's finally getting to read, she can't process them. Maybe it's because she's read it so many times already, or maybe she's just too focused on the fact that in four days, her life is going to change forever.

Angrily, she slams the play shut and forces herself to stand. Madge marches through the manor until she finds Gale, who's outside lounging in the garden. He hasn't a book in his hand or anything to keep himself busy, but seems overly content to sit on the bench and stare out at the flowers.

Madge watches him a moment, the way he leans back and allows his gray eyes to dance across the plants. He seems so calm, so at ease. Again she finds herself stunned by this layer of Gale Hawthorne. He always seems to throw in a surprise when she thinks she has him figured out. Of course, she'll never fully understand the knight.

Before she even makes herself present he turns his head to face her. "Are you going to spend all day staring at me, or will you join me?" he asks, gesturing to the bench.

"How'd you know I was there?" she asks, slowly making her way over to him.

"Instinct," he shrugs. "Good afternoon, Princess."

"Afternoon," Madge nods, taking the seat. She fiddles with the tips of her hair trying to build up some courage. "I have a request," she tells him. Gale cocks an eyebrow and slowly turns to face her. "I wish to go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"In the woods," she continues. When's the next time she'll have this chance? What if the new country she goes to isn't as lovely as this one? Isn't as beautiful? Of course, a lot of people don't see the beauty that she does, but Madge loves where she lives and wishes to imprint the memory of this place in her brain. "Will you take me?"

"You aren't going to run off like you did on the horse ride, are you?"

Madge smiles toward the ground. "No."

Gale stands and offers her his hand. "Then sure, I suppose we can go on a walk." Again Madge smiles, slowly accepting his hand and allowing him to pull her into a standing position. He frowns once they start walking. "Would you like to change? I doubt it's very smart to go walking in sandals."

Madge frowns too. "We're not hiking," she scolds him. "Just meandering through the woods."

"If you say so," he shrugs, still glancing down at her feet. "And the skirt? You're alright with possibly getting it dirty?"

Madge crosses her arms over her chest. "Are you requesting I change completely?"

"Do what you wish," he says, waving his hand at her. "You're the princess, you do what you want."

Halting completely, Madge lets out a deep breath. "Sir Hawthorne you're being ridiculous. Should I change or not?"

Gale hesitates before walking again. "Not. Waste of daylight." Madge nods and then reaches up to grab his arm without him even offering it to her. He says nothing, just allows her fingers to wrap around him and pull her body closer.

The two remain quiet for a very long time, for it takes a while to disappear into the trees. Once they're out of eyesight of the manor Madge feels as though she can breathe again. All of her duties and her obligations are gone for right now. She's no longer a princess waiting to wed a stranger, but a girl on a stroll in the woods to observe the beauty of it. She focuses on the rabbits that scurry under bushes whenever she makes herself present, and the way the sunlight filters through the trees.

After a while her grip on Gale's arm is released so she can browse the area on her own. Madge runs her hands over the bark on the trees and closes her eyes, trying to imprint the feeling into her mind. She picks a flower from the ground and inhales the scent, noticing that none of her perfumes smell quite this sweet. As she lowers herself down to a rock near a stream, watching the water rush by her, a butterfly lands on her hand. She giggles as it flies away.

Only when Gale takes the spot next to her does she remember he's here. "You're very interesting," he murmurs. "Have I told you that?"

"I think maybe once," she responds. Madge continues to watch the butterfly dancing through the air until it's out of view, and when it's gone she feels a piece of her slipping away as well. Soon enough that will be her. Flying away. Never to return. "It's lovely out here," Madge says quietly. "Don't you think?"

Gale nods from next to her. "Yes." His answer is too short for her, so Madge turns her head to find him. He's staring at her, his eyebrows knitted together almost tragically. And when he realizes that she's staring back he breaks his gaze, moving to stand and cross the stream. "I've always loved the woods," he continues. "Spent plenty of time in them before the knighthood."

"Hunting?" Madge asks.

"Yes. And just relaxing, too. I have three younger siblings, they were very… loud, at times." Madge smiles, but then Gale adds, "I hadn't realized how much I'd miss them."

"Maybe you should go back," she says quickly. "Visit. Or ask to be released from your duties and join them permanently."

Gale laughs as he reaches the other side of the stream. "It isn't that easy, Princess."

"Madge," she corrects him softly. When he doesn't respond Madge isn't sure that he heard her. She clears her throat and continues to watch him, digging around some bush. "Why did you join the knighthood, Sir Hawthorne?"

Gale lifts his head and quirks a smile, but it fades quickly. "I thought I'd be able to change things," he calls back to her.

"And have you?"

There's a very long pause before he responds, and Gale doesn't look up this time. "I don't know." Madge fiddles with the hem of her skirt and frowns. "I hope so. I'm trying to." Ah, yes. Cornelius Snow. Suddenly Madge hates how awful she is at conversation. "Would you like a strawberry, Princess?" Gale asks.

"A strawberry?" Gale stands taller now and holds out his hands, showing her what he's been doing. Gathering strawberries. "Oh," she blinks a few times. "Yes, I'd love one." Or two. Or all of them. Madge loves strawberries. Gale nods and then crosses to the stream, dipping the fruits down in the water as to wash them off once. When he hands her once Madge smiles brightly. "Thank you."

"Of course," he nods. Gale hands her one of the fruits in his hands and she bites into it quickly, sighing with relief at the taste. Gale laughs abruptly and Madge widens her eyes, turning to face him. "Sorry," he says as he shakes his head. "I'm sorry. You just…" Gale trails off and reaches down, gently wiping her chin. "The juice," Gale tells her quietly. Madge feels her cheeks run red as he pulls away, sucking his thumb once.

"Silly me," Madge forces out. "I hadn't even been thinking. Just… wanted to eat them." She chews on her lip, embarrassed at her etiquette. "I love strawberries. They're my favorite."

"I can tell," Gale says with a grin.

The two of them eat the rest of the strawberries in comfortable silence. Madge savors each and every one of them, and makes sure not to let the juice spill again. Once the small batch Gale's picked is gone Madge decides to get some more on her own, maybe to show him that she's capable of it or maybe just for her own benefit. Nonetheless, she slides from the rock she's been perched on and makes her way to the edge of the stream.

"Hold on, Princess," Gale murmurs, though not exactly moving from the spot he lounges in. "That stream is pretty fast. And you're in sandals."

"I'm just getting some strawberries," she responds, a bit of annoyance to her voice. Why must he scold everything she does? "One hop across the river isn't going to damage me."

"You'll hurt yourself," Gale decides, shifting in his position so he could stand if he really wanted to. "Do you want the strawberries that badly? I can get them for you. It isn't any trouble. Honestly, I—"

"Sir Hawthorne I know how to cross a stream," she scolds him, narrowing her eyes in his direction.

And before he can leap up to stop her, she leaps across the stream. Sticks the landing. Reaches the other side with ease. She smirks defiantly in his direction before making her way to the bush and picking some more fruit off. In silence she makes her way back to the edge of the stream and dips down, running the fruit through the water like he had. She's smart. Knows more than just manners and being prim and proper. Madge is more than a princess and dammit she'll do anything to make him understand that.

She shivers as the cool water runs over her hands and smiles to herself. Madge loves the feeling of the water, and yet again the urge to swim washes over her. As she stands up she positions herself on a rock, looking up to find Gale watching her with his emotions guarded. Again she smirks, and while watching him, goes to make the cross.

But of course, she slips. She slips and twists her ankle and cries out in pain, falling in the fast moving water as it flows over her. The strawberries are dropped from her hands and she goes to stand but everything is so slippery and cold and her ankle is throbbing painfully. And the last thing Madge sees before fainting is Gale, hovering over her, with a look of terror on his face.

* * *

When Madge awakes her vision swims, and then she realizes she's moving. Her body is pressed tightly against someone else's and they're running, carrying her through the woods at a speed nearly unimaginable. The sensation makes her as though like she's going to puke.

"What happened?" she murmurs, nestling herself into the chest of the person carrying her. He's warm and comforting and her body stings in pain and cold.

"You slipped," he responds. The sound of Gale's voice isn't unsettling at all. In fact, it's reassuring and soft and not as teasing as it should be. "I told you not to go." Madge only grunts in response, clinging tightly to his shirt and breathing in his scent. He smells like the woods, but not the ones that just caused her to twist her ankle. Like pine and smoke and sunlight, if sunlight even smells like anything. "I also think you hit your head," Gale grumbles.

"Thought I fainted," she moans.

"No, you hit your head." And at this declaration Madge realizes what he's said must be true, for a spot behind her ear is warm and stinging. Must be bleeding. Maybe she fainted and then hit her head. She hasn't the slightest idea, actually. "Good lord, your father's going to kill me."

"Now that's a bit of a stretch," Madge responds quietly as he grips her body fiercely. Her vision starts to swim again and she whimpers. "It hurts."

"Shhh," he whispers. "I know. We're almost there."

"Gale," Madge cries and squeezes her eyes shut, burying herself into his side.

"Stay with me," Gale pleads. "Madge. Stay awake. _Please_ stay awake, we're almost there."

"Sorry," she croaks out. And moments later everything is black.

* * *

_A/N: Dun dun duhhhh. Damn Madge getting into all sorts of trouble. And Gale knowing Shakespeare. Oooh lala. I've always loved that soliloquy and I felt as though Madge would like it too. Often left to her own devices, alone, wondering about everything. Death would be no exception. How'd you like it? Reviews always welcome!_


	6. A Plunge

When Madge awakes it's because someone has laid a warm rag on her forehead. She blinks a few times and allows her vision to settle. Her head hurts. When she can finally see she scans the room. It isn't hers. A bit more masculine. The colors aren't as bright. It isn't as clean. Madge hears someone sigh and tips her head a bit, still blinking. She's in Gale's room.

Shock shoots through her veins and she goes to sit up but Gale's hand forces her to stay lying down. "You hit your head," he murmurs. "If you get up too quickly you'll faint. Or throw up. Neither are something I wish to deal with at the moment." Madge nods and clutches the blankets on the bed beneath her to keep herself calm. "I cleaned your cut. The one on your head. It stopped bleeding."

"Thank you," she forces out. Madge is aware that she's not actually under any blankets, just resting on top of them all. Her skirt sticks awkwardly to her considering it's still damp. Embarrassment sweeps through her. She fell down in the stream in front of Gale Hawthorne.

When she looks back up at the knight who so gallantly carried her all the way home, she finds him looking rather upset. His eyebrows are knitted and his face is filled with entirely too much worry. Worry for who? Himself or for the girl in front of him? Madge likes to believe that he's concerned for her rather than worried about himself.

"Does it still hurt?" Gale asks gently. "Your head."

"Not as much," she responds honestly.

"And your ankle?"

Madge isn't using her feet at the moment so it feels perfectly healthy. "I'm sure it's fine," Madge tells him.

Gale lets out another sigh and moves to a pot near the windowsill. He wrings out another cloth so it isn't soaking wet and then makes his way back to her. "Which is it?" he asks. "The one you twisted." Madge gestures to her left and Gale nods. He gently pulls her ankle into his hand and delicately wraps the warm towel around her foot. She exhales pleasantly at the touch and allows her eyes to flutter shut. "Am I hurting you?"

"Not at all," she murmurs. In fact, she feels blissfully at peace.

"You should rest, Princess," Gale tells her. "Build your strength back up." Madge lets out some sort of sigh in response and then hears him chuckle softly. "You're a mess."

"_You're_ a mess," she replies through a sleepy voice. Again he chuckles. The sound of Gale's laugh and the warmth from the rags are enough to cause her to drift off into a light sleep.

* * *

Madge is pulled from her slumber at the sound of a door clicking shut. She blinks, thrown off entirely by the darkness of the room. The curtain is drawn back so she can see the sun slipping away, and the day slowly turning into night. Has she been asleep that long?

Her eyes dart around the room frantically searching for Gale. She props herself up on her elbow and the rag – now cold – falls from her forehead and lands in her lap. Madge allows her eyes to adjust to the darkness and she takes the cold cloth from her before placing it on the bedside table.

The throbbing in her head is mostly gone. Madge scoots into a sitting position and lifts her fingers to the back of her head. The spot she hit is tender but only hurts if she pushes on it. Again she glances around the room, still unable to find the knight who's left her here. She reaches down to her ankle and unwraps the cloth, wincing as she bends the wrong way. That's not a good sign.

With a deep breath Madge finishes the job, and then places that rag next to the one she's already placed on the bedside table.

Now that her eyes are fully adjusted to the dark and scans the room. It isn't every day that she's in a man's room, let alone that of Gale Hawthorne. She supposes that it's just a borrowed room, a place for him to stay while he's here that doesn't actually belong to him, but Madge still can learn a bit about him from her surroundings.

There's a pile of books on the bedside table. Names that are too worn down to read. She wonders if she's read them. If she likes them. They do both like Shakespeare. Madge wonders if Gale would ever suggest a book to her.

And by the door is a quiver of arrows. She can't see the bow. Madge wonders why he has weapons. If he's been using them in the woods. Maybe Gale's the reason they've had such fine meat over these past few days.

There are some dirty clothes on the floor, and that makes her laugh. There's clearly a basket right off to the side but for some reason, the knight has decided to litter the room with his clothing. Madge wonders if any of these clothes are his, or if they're all just borrowed. She wonders if he has anything from his old home.

"What's so funny?" a voice suddenly asks. Madge glances over to the side and finds Gale emerging from his closet. Or well, _a _closet. He's in loose fitting clothing that most likely pass as his pajamas. He pulls a lantern out from behind him and a dim yellow light fills the room. "Feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, yes," she nods. Madge decides not to tell him about how she found his clothes all over the place as something humorous. "What time is it?"

"Late. You missed dinner." Gale crosses the room and reaches to a place out of view from her. "Brought you something to eat, though." Madge smiles at the sight of the quick meal. Some bread, some fruit. It's more of a breakfast meal than a dinner meal, but her stomach is angry for not having eaten in so long. He lowers the plate to her lap and Madge quickly devours the food. Delicious, most definitely. Once her plate is empty Gale removes it and hands her a glass of water. "Drink up."

So she does. The water is gone in seconds.

"Has anyone asked about me?" she wonders aloud after lowering the cup.

"Yes. Almost everyone."

Madge lifts an eyebrow at the knight. "And?"

"I told them you were ill. And angry with me over something minor. So you've locked yourself in your room, not to be disturbed." Madge lifts both of her eyebrows now and lets out a light laugh. Gale smiles a bit too. "I've locked your door and hidden the keys. No one will question it."

Madge nods, slightly proud of the man in front of her. He's a quick thinker. Although, she knows he mostly did it so they wouldn't get in trouble over the fact that they were wandering through the woods. So _he_ wouldn't get in trouble.

"Thank you," she says softly. "For taking care of me."

Madge has been taken care of before but only by cold doctors. Her father was never gentle with her when she was a child; he had other things to do. And Madge often had to take care of her mother rather than the other way around. So for once, it's very nice to be treated with such care.

"It's the least I could do," Gale murmurs. He leans backwards against the wall near the bed. "I've fatally injured you."

She feigns a gasp. "I am _not _fatally injured!"

Gale grins to himself and lifts his shoulders. "No, but you are injured." At that, his smile dissipates. "All my fault, too. I should've known not to take you into the woods while you were wearing _sandals_. I should've known not to take you in the woods at all." Gale frowns and wrinkles his nose. "Princess, I'm so sorry. I should've—"

"Oh, quiet," she shushes him. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"You've got a lump on the back of your head the size of your castle and your ankle is sprained," Gale mutters. "Yes, there's something wrong with you. You're hurt."

Guilt fills her system almost immediately. He's blaming himself? "Am not," she tells him. "Honestly," Madge doesn't want Gale to blame himself. The entire accident was her fault. She'll prove to him that she's fine. Madge slides to the edge of the bed under his watchful eye and eases herself onto her feet. "I'm fine. I'm perfectly—" as Madge goes to walk she slips, her ankle twisting in the worst way possible yet again. Gale's quick, however, rushing forward and catching her easily. "Fine," Madge squeaks out.

Madge glances up and finds his face mere inches away from hers. She lets out a deep breath and her hands slowly find their way to his shirt for balance. Gale steadies her against him, his hands gentle against her hips. She licks her lips and tries to hold his gaze but always ends up staring at his mouth again.

"Madge," he murmurs. His breath dances over her skin, dangerously addictive. Madge blinks a few times until her eyelids are simply unable to stay open. She has never felt her heart beating so rapidly in her chest, never felt her pulse quicken as it is now. "I hadn't intended on you getting injured," Gale breathes. Madge sucks in a sharp breath, trying to keep herself anchored. "It's all my fault."

"It doesn't even hurt," she lies, peeling her eyes open. The light from the lantern flickers over his skin, deepening the shadows of the room and yet making Gale entirely more intoxicating.

His face looks pained. His eyebrows are knitted tightly together and he frowns. "You're the princess," he says. "You're expected to walk in all these fancy shoes and—"

"_Please_," she nearly begs. "Don't. Don't do that." One of his hand releases its hold on her hip and lifts to caress her cheek. "You always do that. Call me Princess…" Madge trails off shaking her head. "I'm tired of being a princess. I'm just a girl. Just a girl."

"But you _are_ a princess," he forces out. "Crown or not, it's who you are."

"No," Madge says. "It isn't who I am. It's part of me, yes, but I stand separate from the throne. My name is Madge Undersee. Just Madge. All I want to _be_ is Madge Under—"

She never finishes her name. Gale bends down and presses his lips to her, gentler than she had ever imagined he could be. She gasps at first, surprised that he's actually taken the plunge. It takes her a moment to respond, confused if this is actually happening or just a dream, brought on by the lump on the back of her head.

He pulls away much too soon, yet doesn't go too far. Gale lowers his forehead to hers, letting out heavy breaths.

Madge stares at him. Blinks. Tries to make sense of the situation. Gale lifts his hand and brushes her hair from her face. Madge opens her mouth to speak but can't find the words. What does she want to say?

"That was my apology," he murmurs, "for injuring you."

Madge clutches his shirt tighter than before and pulls him closer. "I don't forgive you yet," she whispers back. Gale's eyes narrow or a moment, but then a smirk slips onto his face.

So he kisses her again. The element of surprise is gone and yet Madge still finds herself shocked that Gale is actually kissing her. His lips gently caress hers, soft and sweet and slow. Her body reacts in a way she hadn't known it could. She slides her hands up his cheeks and tangles her fingers in his hair. She lets his tongue explore her mouth. She forgets everything her mother has ever told her about boys and lets Gale take control.

He spins her slightly, keeping his hold on her strong and leaning towards the wall. Madge tries to help, stepping backwards, but flinches when the pain from her ankle shoots through her system. Gale breaks the kiss and frowns. "Sorry," he murmurs. "Forgot."

"Me too," she admits breathily. Gale chuckles and readjusts his grip on her, sliding his arms around her back.

Madge shivers as he dips back down, eagerly pressing his lips against hers. Again her hands clutch Gale's shirt, or tease at his hair, or cup his cheeks. She can't decide where she wants to settle them.

Gale diverts from her mouth and kisses down her jaw. The sensation is entirely different than a regular kiss and warms Madge in the most fantastic way possible. "Order me to stop," he breathes.

"Don't you dare," she forces out.

"I should court you," he whispers as his lips trail down her jaw. "Properly. Like a proper gentleman. Ask your father for permission. Bring you flowers." The thought of Gale bringing her flowers makes her overly giddy. Madge lets his lips wreak havoc on her collarbone and focuses on how to breathe.

Seventeen years. Madge has gone seventeen years without this feeling? Complete and utter bliss. Breathtakingly fantastic.

"This is all wrong," he suddenly murmurs.

Madge grabs his chin and forces his face up to hers. "Don't say that," she nearly pleads with him. "Gale…" Again he kisses her. Gently. Their lips move together in a dance. Perfect harmony. How could this be wrong at all? How could this be anything but right? When they part he rests his forehead on her again. His eyes are bright in the candlelight, the most interesting shade gray. "It feels so right," she whispers. "Doesn't it?"

"Things can feel right and be wrong," he tells her softly. "Or feel wrong and be right."

"That doesn't answer my question," Madge says with a frown. "Does this feel right to you?"

Gale studies her a moment. His eyes scan over her nose. Her lips. Her cheeks. "Yes," he nods. "It does." Madge smiles, happiness filling every pore of her body almost at once. And Gale smiles too. She presses herself onto her toes to kiss him again but he's much taller than her and easily steps away. "No, don't," Gale says. "Too fast." Madge has a hard time believing that this was too fast for him. She's sure that wherever Gale goes a group of girls follow him. "You should get some rest."

"I've rested enough—"

"I'll lay with you," he murmurs. "Until you fall asleep. If you want, that is."

Madge hopes the darkness of the room hides her pink cheeks, and she nods. Gale scoops her into his arms gently so she doesn't have to walk and carries her over to his bed. She clutches at his chest until he carefully lays her down. Gale smiles at her. He has the best smile, she thinks, out of all the men she's ever met.

Moments later he's crawling onto the other side of the bed, careful to keep his distance. Madge focuses on the tingle that he's let spread through her. It dances over her lips and across her skin. Clutches at her hips and makes her toes curl.

He watches her for a moment and she watches back. Eventually he scoots closer to her and she finds herself overly relieved. Gale lifts his hand and brushes at her hair. "You do know," he whispers, "that if anyone in this manor were to know about this, I would be lynched?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Madge laughs. "I wouldn't let them touch you."

Again he smiles. "Get some sleep," he says.

"I'm too awake," she tells him. "That'd be your fault."

"Couldn't help myself."

"Thank God."

Gale laughs and leans forward, pressing a kiss to her nose. "You're going to cause me all kinds of trouble, aren't you?" Madge smirks and reaches up, pulling his chin down so their lips can meet. "We should stop," Gale says softly before kissing her again.

"Such confliction, isn't it?" she breathes. "Kissing me or ordering me to sleep?"

"Isn't confliction at all," Gale chuckles. "I can't order you to do anything. That's your job." Gale rolls and props himself up so he's hovering over her, rather than sharing that awkward side kiss.

And they kiss again. Just once or twice more. Madge doesn't mind, because Gale spends the rest of the time with his mouth telling her the most wonderful things. How the color of her hair infiltrated his dreams, through the day and night. How her hidden attitude surprised him in the best way. How he can't stop thinking about her no matter how wrong he knows it is to feel like this over the princess.

But he doesn't call her Princess, he calls her Madge. Gale lets his fingers dance over her skin and it leaves Madge with a sizzle.

She decides that maybe, if this had all happened sooner, she would've been brave enough to spark a rebellion. Gale makes her feel as though she's on fire.

* * *

_A/N: Kisses c: However, not all is grand in this kingdom! Not yet! Mwuahahaha. Sorry if the kisses seem rushed? I mean almost two weeks of (good) tension it was bound to let loose sometime. Plus Madge has never kissed anyone, it immediately became an addiction. Predictions / reviews please! _


	7. A Journey

When she wakes she is alone. She is in her room. The only evidence that Madge has that last night even happened is the lump on the back of her head and the fact that she's in the same clothing. She sits up slowly, listening to the lock on her door sliding. And then – pop – the door swings open. In strides one of her attendants in a fuss.

"It took us all night to find the rotten key," she's murmuring. "Word arrived this morning, your majesty."

Still half asleep and dazed beyond belief Madge rubs at her eyes. "Word of what?"

"You're to leave the manor as soon as you're ready."

Madge sits up as fast as she can, wincing when a spike of pain shoots down her spine. "What?" she chokes out. Her throat is raw again. She needs something to drink. "That's three days early," Madge nearly shouts. What could this possibly be about? "What else did the letter say?"

"Nothing of importance," the woman says. "Now up! You haven't got all day!" Madge blinks a few times, staring at the woman. Before she can shout at her again, a noise much too loud for Madge's ears this early, she scoots to the edge of the bed and slides off. As she goes to walk a tingle of agony twists through her ankle, and she collapses nearly instantly. "Oh my goodness! Princess!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insists. How could she've forgotten about her ankle? "Honestly!"

"What on earth happened?"

"I must've tripped," Madge lies instantly. She did trip. Kind of. It's a bit of a lie. "Nothing too major, I'm sure." The attendant moves over to Madge's side and helps her walk toward the bathing area.

"I'll send someone up to tape it up for you, Princess," she says kindly. "And I'll be sure to pick a dress that is floor length. And some sandals. No heels."

"Thank you," Madge nods. The long dress is going to be a bit of a bother. It's warm outside.

In a matter of minutes Madge is stripped from her clothing. Someone remarks on how dirty and grungy everything looks, and considering Madge wore it all day yesterday _and _slept in, she understands why. But she won't explain. She keeps her mouth shut as they bring her food. Doesn't talk. Tries to keep up the whole act that she's a bit annoyed at something Gale said.

But mostly, she's just thinking.

What if last night really all had been a dream? The thought of even such a thing sends her heart plummeting into her stomach. Aches spread through her body entirely. If it was a dream, it was the best dream of all. Her fingers curl at the memory – it _has_ to be a memory – of Gale's lips skirting across hers. Madge touches her lips and sighs. Yes. It happened. Last night happened.

But what after that? How did she end up in her room again? He must've moved her, yes, in fear of being found out. Maybe he knew about them having to leave today so he moved her back to her room. She drums her fingers along her collarbone. Gale kissed there. And her neck. And the spot below her ear. She shivers without meaning to and one of her attendants gives her a strange look.

"Cold water," is all Madge says in response.

What feels like hours later but mustn't be too long considering the sun is still barely up, Madge is ready to go. She stands, a lot easier now with her ankle taped up, and slowly walks with the assistance of someone.

"I wish to see Sir Hawthorne," Madge says plainly.

"Princess," someone sighs, "he told us that you two had a… a disagreement. Do you think it's best that—"

"I wish to see him," Madge repeats sternly. She lifts her eyebrows high on her forehead, trying to use a strong voice that her father taught her to use. She's a princess; she needs to be listened to. "Or is there going to be a disagreement _here_?"

The woman curtsies before Madge and scampers away, most likely to retrieve Gale. She waits. She adjusts the crown on her head. It hurts again. The dress is too tight. Her ankle is in pain, as is the lump on the back of her skull. Her head hurts.

The second Madge spots Gale strolling toward her, her heart leaps. She swears that his lips quirk upward for a moment, but the ghost of a smile is gone in a second.

"Princess," he says sternly. His voice is different. More like before. "Are you ready to disembark?"

"Yes," she nods. Her eyes flit from person to person in the room. They watch the interaction. "Are you packed?"

"I was never packed in the first place," he responds simply. Gale offers her his arm and Madge takes it. She tries not to limp as she walks but even the wrapping around her foot couldn't make all of the pain go away. When no one's listening Gale whispers, "Your ankle?"

"Fine," she responds.

Secretly Madge wishes Gale would pull her into his arms and carry her down the stairs. That would be nice. She hadn't known much she craved interaction with another until last night with Gale. Lying in bed with him was an entirely new sensation to the princess. Intimate. She's never been intimate with anyone, whether it be physically or mentally. And with Gale she was, she thinks, in both ways.

Down the stairs. To the carriage. Madge says her goodbyes to the people around the house. Waves over her shoulder. Thanks them all for their assistance. And then is helped up into her seat.

Madge sits proudly as she had when she arrived at the manor in the countryside. It's the same carriage. Gale takes the seat across from her. She wishes he would sit beside her.

But more importantly, he's quiet. He stares out the window. Watches the trees zoom past. Listens to the clopping of the horse hooves. Madge blinks.

"What aren't you talking to me?" she blurts out. Gale turns his head slightly to peer at her, and then returns to looking out the window. Again, he's quiet. Madge swallows, the saliva is thick in her throat. "Why're we going back early?"

"I haven't the slightest idea, Princess," he hums.

Madge drums her fingers on her thigh and readjusts how she sits. "Why aren't you talking to me?" she repeats, a bit calmer than last time. Still, quiet. "Answer me." He doesn't. "That's an order."

"Last night was a mistake," Gale responds, still not looking toward her. "We shouldn't have done what we did."

"All we did was lie there," she nearly snaps. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Don't you get it?" Finally, _finally_ his eyes meet hers. Stormy gray. Full of anger. "Last night was wrong. It was entirely too wrong, I was being selfish."

Madge shakes her head. "I don't understand. Don't you like me?"

"Of course I do," Gale grumbles. "That's the problem." He shakes his head, never letting relenting on his harsh gaze. "For the love of God, you're the _princess_. I'm just a knight. A lousy one, at that. If I were any good I would've walked away. I wouldn't've kissed you." Madge lets out a shaky breath, lifting her hands to touch her lips again. "But of course we can't change the past. What's done is done."

"You _regret_ kissing me?" Madge nearly bites out.

Anger ripples through her entire body. Perhaps he had been her first kiss, but there's no doubt in her mind Gale Hawthorne would be the best. It doesn't have to do with the fact that she's a princess at all, it just has to deal with the fact that he doesn't like her. She's not an idiot, she can see through this phony excuse.

"We don't need to talk about it," he grunts.

"Talk about—yes we do!" Madge throws her hands down and lunges across the small space, taking the spot next to him. "Gale," she pleads. Her hand rests on his arm and she loosely grips him. "Don't do this. You're being ridiculous."

"And what would you rather have happen, Princess?" Gale growls. He swats her hand from her arm and shakes his head. "Keep me your little secret? Meet up in the middle of the night for a quick kiss before you return to your husband?" The word _husband _bounces through her skull. "You're to be wed! Or have you forgotten?"

"I—"

"I won't be your secret," he grits out. Before Madge has the chance, Gale switches to the other side of the carriage where she had been seated earlier. "And you won't be mine. This ends. Whatever _this_ is."

She shakes her head slowly, tears filling her eyes. "Don't do this," she whispers, her voice giving out on the last word.

Gale doesn't respond. He only turns his head and glances out the window again. Madge sucks in a sharp breath and swallows the sob she wants to release. She's not a child. Love is for children. Heartbreak is for children. Madge is not a child. She refuses to let herself break in front of this knight.

Instead, she straightens her crown. She straightens her posture. She glances out the window and watches the trees zoom past.

Neither of them speaks the rest of the journey.

* * *

Her father and mother welcome her with open arms. They hold her and hug her. Madge's mother even gets out of bed. Madge pretends they wrote her letters while she was away.

The entire time her father goes through the wedding plans she watches Gale. He is off to the side of the room, talking to a few other knights and the kingdom's oldest war general. The king has to repeat everything a few times for Madge to actually process it.

"He'll be here in four days," he tells her. "You're to be wed the day after he arrives. He's very important, Madge, dear." The king brushes some of her hair from her face. "They've already started on your wedding dress. Would you like to see it?"

Her head screams no. She will not marry this stranger. She will not try on her wedding dress. She will not agree to this. Gale lifts his gaze and spots her, but retracts his eyes immediately.

Madge forces a bright smile and nods. "I would love to see it, Daddy."

* * *

Too tight. Too long. Too hideous. Madge does not want to wear this. But she will. She has to. She spins when they tell her to spin. She stands on a stool and is poked my needle after needle as the servants adjust it to her body.

It could be pretty, Madge thinks, if it were for someone else's wedding instead of hers. But it isn't.

She stares at herself in the mirror long after everyone is gone. Tries to pretend that she looks beautiful. She doesn't feel beautiful. She feels cheap. Dirty. She hasn't even met the man yet. Her father told her the man's name but she wasn't listening. Or if she was, she doesn't remember. He'll always just be _the man_. Her husband.

There's a slight knock on the door, but Madge doesn't turn around. She already knows who it is. She called for him. And of course, that's the first thing he says. He wouldn't have come if she hadn't. But she's the princess. And he has to do what she says.

"You called for me, Princess?" His voice is soft. Gentle. Familiar. It makes her heart inside her chest ache. Eventually, she does spin to face him. Gale stands tall. Clean. Donned in armor. His eyes drift over her outfit before picking back up to meet hers. He coughs, "Did you need something?"

"I know why you said what you did," she says gently. Her throat is thick. Hopefully what she's come up with is correct. If not, she's not prepared to feel her heart breaking all over again. She lightly walks across the room to him, trying not to wince on her ankle. "I figured it out." Gale doesn't respond, only keeps his eyes locked with hers. She steps closer and knocks on his chest plate. "You're leaving. Going to fight." Gale swallows, not responding at all to her statement. "Aren't you?"

"Yes."

Madge nods, suddenly fighting off a batch of tears. She wanted to be right, and yet she wanted to be wrong. "Would you stay if I asked you to?"

"No," he answers. Madge nods again, turning her face away from him. She won't let him see her cry. She won't let him see her like this. But Gale's too quick, he catches her cheek and pulls her back to face him. "I said what I did so it would be easier if—"

"If you died?" Madge croaks. Gale wipes gently below her eyes and sighs, pulling her into his grasp. The metal of his suit is cold and Madge hates it. She wants the feel of his chest, the heat of his body. The ice of the iron is just a dark reminder of where he's going. Off to fight. Maybe not to return. To fight against a dictator for freedom. "It wouldn't have made it any easier," Madge whimpers. His hands twirl through her hair. "Tell me you didn't mean any of it," she pleads. "What you said in the carriage."

"I didn't mean any of it," Gale whispers. "Not a single word. That doesn't change the fact that you're to be married, though. And I'm still a crummy knight."

"I should've done what you said," she cries. "Should've told my father I didn't want to. If I had listened then _maybe_…" Madge trails off, unable to finish. She sucks in a sharp breath and glances up at the man in front of her. A chance. That's all she wants. A chance with Gale to see what could be. "Promise me that you'll come home."

"I can't make that promise," he tells her gently.

It almost makes her angry how determined he is, how damn committed he is to the cause. He wants to make a difference. He wants the country to be a better place. He's so dedicated that he's willing to die for it. In fact, he already thinks that he's going to.

Again she sucks in a sharp breath. "Then I demand it. I demand you come home."

Gale chuckles, and the noise is vastly out of place. "Then I guess I must." But she knows it's just words. War is war. Anyone can be taken, even him. Gale sighs and shakes his head. "You're strong," he tells her softly. "You can get through this." By this, Madge isn't sure if he means the wedding or his leaving. Because she most certainly cannot get through his absence. Especially if he doesn't return.

Before she can say anything he drops his mouth down to hers, kissing her as gently as he can. Madge clutches at his shoulders, angry that her hands hold at his armor instead of his skin. She wants his warmth. Needs his warmth. As if sensing this Gale dips down deeper, running his hand down her back before grabbing her hip. Her hands slide up to his cheeks and she finally soaks up his heat. It washes over her in waves that make he winded. When they pull away from each other he stays close, his breath surrounding her in warm pants.

"I'd be your secret," he murmurs. Gale brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'd be anything you wanted."

"I just want you alive," she forces out.

Again he pulls her toward him into an awkwardly strong hug. Who cares if she can't feel his body, the fact that he's holding her is enough.

"Tis' better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all," he whispers.

Madge's heart shatters into a million of pieces and leaves her more broken than before. "Don't say that like you're saying goodbye," she whimpers.

"But I am," he responds. Gale leans down and presses his lips to her forehead. "Stay safe, Madge. And keep me in your heart."

Her fingers attempt to clutch onto his shirt, keep him where he is, but again she's left with nothing but his armor. And she can't grip onto that. Gale slips away from her saying nothing else, marching from the room just as a knight should. He doesn't look back. She can't look away.

And just like that, he's gone.

* * *

_A/N: The "loved and lost" line is from "In Memoriam" which was written for a friend who died. Which makes it hurt even more that Gale said it, since Madge is so well versed in literature, and most definitely knew what it meant. Eeek. Coming to the close here... make your predictions! Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	8. A Messenger

Madge paces the corridor outside of her father's meeting room. Her ankle is mostly healed, but she likes to walk around and feel the dull throb that lingers. It soothes her nerves. It reminds her of him. It gives her strength. Her father told her to wait, and so she does, pacing back and forth and letting the ache creep through her system and listening to the swooshing of her dress.

Gale's been gone for two days. No word has arrived, although if it were Madge is sure she wouldn't have been informed. No one knows about what they had. And as far as Madge knows, no one knows _she_ knows why all the men in the kingdom have suddenly gone off to fight.

There are still a few armed guards here, yes, but Madge has noticed the difference. It's obvious everyone has gone somewhere.

She wishes she could know something. _Anything_. How are King Snow's defenses holding up? Who else is involved? When will they return? What if they fail? Anything to calm her nerves and settle her heart. Some information about Gale would be a bit better, but she'll take what she can get at this point.

"You may come in now, Margaret," her father calls out. Madge lets out a deep breath and collects herself. She's a princess. She can do this. She can talk to her father maturely. He's an understanding man, really. Being the king has nothing to do with how he acts toward her. She marches in, tall and proud and just as elegant as any princess should. He smiles at her. "Hello, Dear," he says, lounging back in his seat. "I'm surprised you stopped by to see me. Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Father," she nods. Tries to nod. It's more of a jerk. Madge wipes her hands on her dress, praying the sweat doesn't stain. "Are you alone?"

King Undersee glances toward the door where a guard stands and shrugs. "Mostly."

Deep breath. Deep breath. "Of course," she nods. Nodding and nodding. Is her head any better than when she fell in the stream? "I have a few things I'd like to talk to you about," she tells him. Her father raises an eyebrow. "Well," she starts. Another deep breath. And then it all explodes out of her. "You see I'm 17 years old and I think that qualifies me the age to make decisions for myself and I've been thinking about it a lot and I'm really honored just as I know I should be but I don't think I should marry the man that you're sending to marry me because I want to fall in love, Daddy, love, and I want to make my own choice of a lifelong partner I can't marry a man whose name I don't know and I know you told me his name but I keep forgetting probably because I don't wish to remember and I really like Shakespeare does this man know that probably not so I keep thinking about things like this and—"

"Good God, Madge," he silences her, holding up his hand. "Slow _down_. I'm not as young as I used to be!"

"I don't want to get married," she squeaks out. Her father blinks at her. "Daddy, I want to fall in _love_." Madge taps her fingers along her side and shakes her head. "I don't want to marry a stranger! I want to make my own choice! I want to be courted! I want—"

"Honey," he cuts her off gently, an obvious pain to his voice. "It's too late for that."

"_No_," she pleads. Madge contemplates falling to her knees. "Daddy, _please_," Madge begs. "Call it off! You're the king you can do that!"

"I'm afraid I cannot," he says sternly, dropping his gaze from his daughter. "The papers have been signed."

"I don't see the point!" Madge cries as she tugs her fingers through her hair. "If you're sending our men to fight theirs then a marriage for me is most certainly a death slip!" She slaps her hand up to her mouth instantly, regretting the words that she's spewed out.

Her father snaps his head up and widens his eyes, rushing from his seat and pulling her to the far corner of the room in an instant. Shame fills her entire being at what she's done. She wasn't supposed to let on that she knew anything. She was supposed to keep her mouth shut.

"Do not ever say anything like that again, Madge," her father orders. "Is that clear?" Madge jerks her head into a nod, now desperately fighting her tears. "I don't know how you even _know_ that." Madge swallows, shaking her head. "If all goes according to plan you'll have nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to…?" she wipes under her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I think you're needed for your studies," the king suddenly says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Go on, darling," he pushes her toward the door. "Put your trust in me."

* * *

Madge is dressed to perfection. Her hair is knotted strangely in an awkward design, but her mother tells her she looks beautiful. The crown aches her skull again. Must have to do with the lump that still hasn't gone away. She sits tall on the throne. Waiting. Watching. Flinching every time the sound of a carriage strolls up.

Today is the day her husband arrives.

Or, well, soon to be husband.

The corset that smothers the air out of her is also smothering out every bit of hope she has for herself and for the future. She is no longer a child. She is a princess. She is a leader. She is doing this because it's what has to be done.

Of course Gale swims in the back of her mind. His face. His touch. She barely knows the knight and yet she can't stop thinking about every single moment they had together. She liked when he challenged her, when he tested her. No one else does that. She liked when Gale would tease her. She liked when he would push her to her limits.

Madge tries to swallow her feelings for him. Not love, of course not, she doesn't know him well enough. But there's something there. An attraction. An admiration. An infatuation. She wants to know him, wants to know every little thing about him.

She'll never get the chance.

King Undersee shifts on his throne next to her, and then Madge realizes why. There's a sound outside.

Swallow. Swallow again. Her feelings will not go away. She doesn't want this responsibility. Moments later someone is rushing inside toward the throne. Madge tips her head at the man. Surely this is not her future husband. No offense to him, but he's… small. Tiny. Scrawny. Young. Perhaps younger than her. A messenger.

"Your majesty," the boy says. He bows. He is proper. King Undersee lifts an eyebrow, motioning for him to continue. "Word has just been sent," he proclaims. "There was a carriage on route for your kingdom carrying men of King Snow's land." Madge shifts, sitting up properly. "It was found overturned on the side of the road," the boy continues. "They are all dead."

* * *

Madge resorts to pacing again, considering she doesn't have to wait on the throne anymore. The throbbing in her ankle is gone. She wishes it would return so she could focus on something other than her thoughts. The men in the carriage coming to her kingdom are dead. Her future husband. Her father says that it's been confirmed he was among them. The wedding is off.

The wedding is off?

Freedom should be soaring through her veins but instead Madge finds herself more nervous than before. Her hands sweat. She wipes them on her dress but the material isn't absorbent and she just leaves herself feeling more damp than before. Her hair has fallen from her strange bun, her crown is somewhere in her room. She's a frazzled mess.

Madge, though she had detested it, had planned to marry the stranger. She thought her entire life was already mapped out. She would marry him. Move to his land. Birth his children. Be his. But that plan is gone. For now, Madge is a free woman. She can make her own decisions. She is not tied down to anyone.

So what happens next?

If the men from the carriage are dead, that means the men from Madge's kingdom have killed them. There's no doubt in her mind that this is what has happened. Was Gale among that group? Where are they going now? To King Snow's kingdom? To commit assassination? More murder?

Her father tells her not to worry, as does her mother. Word will arrive soon, either good or bad. But the lack of information makes her antsy. She doesn't want bad news. She doesn't. No. She can't have bad news. But bad news somehow is better than no news at all.

Pacing. Pacing. Pacing. She can only circle the castle so many times before she gets blisters on her feet. Pacing. Pacing. She explores every room in her home. Since when did they get an armory inside? Pacing. Five days later, after what feels like years to Madge, a messenger has arrived.

Good news. King Snow has fallen.

Bad news. So has her people.

* * *

So many injured. So many dead. A girl named Katniss Everdeen rides up to the castle like Joan of Arc would and retells the story to Madge at a lightning pace. Thank God Madge is a good listener.

It was bloody. "The red was so thick in the fields you couldn't even see the grass." It was quick. "We had five of their men for every one they took of ours." It was not pleasant. "No one cared who died. Everyone wanted a winner." And they got one.

"Us and a few other armies met up in the middle of the night. They weren't expecting an attack," Katniss tells her. King Undersee is too busy arranging healers to be sent out to the field and opening new rooms for those who are injured to stay in. That means Katniss is left with Madge, but the brunette doesn't seem to mind. She's quieter than what Madge would've thought. "We circled around Snow's men. It was harder because it was a mountain area but we had more people. Lots of different skills. King Snow's men relied on their newer technology. It faltered a lot of the time, gave us an advantage."

Madge nods. She studies the outfit the girl in front of her wears. Grimy and gory and overly disgusting. A golden color to her shirt that doesn't quite match the Undersee emblem. "Are you from my country?"

"Yes," Katniss nods. "Far off from here, but still loyal to your father."

Again Madge nods. This girl in front of her radiates energy. Of course she does, she's just won a war. "You were able to rally the people yourself?" Madge asks her. She's impressed. Madge spends a lot of time trying to convince herself that she's brave enough to speak to an entire crowd like her father is. She's not so sure.

"No," Katniss chuckles. "A boy from my village. He's very good with words. We won a border war together many months ago." Katniss tugs on her braid which is tightly tied, off to the side. "He sustained a leg injury," she tells the princess. Katniss' voice rings of sadness and worry shoots through Madge's veins. "He'll be here along with many of your wounded knights."

"Is he going to be alright?" Madge asks. No more death. No more pain. But Katniss nods and smiles brightly. The boy will live. Good. There's been enough tragedy. She rocks on her feet. "Any other news about Snow's kingdom?"

"Yes, actually," Katniss lounges in her seat. Madge remains tall and proud just as her father taught her, though relaxing backwards like the girl in front of her looks a lot more comfortable. "Their riches are being split among the countries that aided in country's downfall." She hesitates. "We get much of it."

Madge's eyes widen. "We do?" Her heart is beginning to sing again. Money. Money for the country! Freedom is coursing through her veins. A new era. An era of peace. Katniss nods, smiling a bit. "That's great news."

"Great news indeed."

Madge doesn't ask about Gale.

* * *

She sees him before he sees her. That probably is because he's asleep, rolled over on the cot with his obnoxiously long legs sticking off the end of the mattress. Relief fills Madge up so greatly she feels if she were to jump she would be floating, hovering above the earth.

Gale Hawthorne is alive. Wounded, yes, but alive all the same. Snoring slightly. Drooling onto his pillow. The action makes Madge giggle.

"Do you know him?" a voice asks. Madge spins around to find Katniss Everdeen watching her. She's cleaned up a bit, no longer covered in the filth of the battle. She's dressed nicely too, a loose fitting skirt and a green top. "Gale," Katniss says, gesturing to the knight. "Do you know him?"

"Oh," Madge can feel her face heating up. "A little, yes." Katniss smiles and brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Do you?"

"Yes," Katniss nods. "He's from my village. We were friends a long time ago, long before he joined the knighthood." Something stirs inside Madge's chest, she finds herself peering at Katniss with a bit of jealousy. Could it be? Is she the girl Gale once loved? "He watched over my family when I went to fight in the border wars," she tells her. And then something breaks. Maybe her heart. Madge isn't sure. Of course this is the girl.

"That's lovely," Madge forces out. Everyone in the kingdom speaks highly of Katniss Everdeen, it's no wonder Gale had fallen for her.

"He's one of my closest friends," Katniss continues. "It was a relief to see him at the battle, honestly. It'd been so long. Since the wedding, I think." Wedding? Madge tips her head down and finds Katniss twirling a ring on her finger.

Oh. _Right_. She was wed. That part must've slipped her mind. Katniss stops spinning her ring and then Madge realizes she's been staring. The brunette lifts her eyebrows but doesn't question anything. Perhaps Katniss is wed but that doesn't mean _Gale_ has moved on. And why should he have? Madge clenches her teeth together to keep herself calm. She's no warrior like Katniss. She can barely do anything by herself without falling over.

Maybe Madge isn't on her way to marrying a stranger right now but that doesn't mean Gale is automatically hers. Or she, his. It's a free world, he can chose whoever he wants. And if it's not Madge she'll deal with it like she does everything else.

"He speaks highly of you," Katniss suddenly says. "Gale does."

Again Madge feels her cheeks turning pink. "Does he?"

"Oh yes," Katniss nods. "He told me that you were going to make an excellent leader someday. You aren't rash, you think things through." Madge can feel her heart picking up speed as Katniss speaks. "Very kind and gentle, all good leaders need a good heart." Madge tips her head forward a bit. Gale said all of this? "He told me you two connected."

"Connected?" Madge blurts out the word before she can help herself.

Katniss lifts her eyebrows again. "Yes, said you spoke of Shakespeare for quite a bit one day. He said he could relate to you. To your beliefs."

Phew. The princess wipes her sweaty hands on her dress and drops her gaze back to the knight in front of her. Madge's voice is but a squeak when she asks, "He did?"

"He did," Katniss tells her. Madge watches Gale's chest slowly rising and falling in rhythm and she feels herself longing for himself to be awake again. It's strange to see him this way. He's usually so full of life, his gray eyes sparking every time he makes a jab at Madge. "Princess," Katniss hesitantly rests her hand on Madge's arm. Though the action should startle her, it doesn't. "Gale will wake up."

"I know," Madge answers. But will he feel the same way about her as she does about him?

* * *

_A/N: Last chapter will wrap it up! Thank you all so much for sticking with this story! How do you feel about the battle? I mean it wasn't really described very much but I mean Madge wasn't actually there, so there's that. No more husband. Good or bad? Predictions for Gale? Please review!_


	9. A Celebration

The entire castle is packed with people Madge doesn't know. Knights and their families, people from outlying villages, nobles from the other countries that helped dethrone Snow. The atmosphere is electric. Everyone is happy and there's music playing somewhere and laughter fills the air from every direction.

Madge feels like an outsider. It pleases her greatly to see everyone so excited and at ease, but at the same time she wishes she was a part of this all. She sits tall on her throne. She smiles at her subjects. For the moment she wishes she was one of them.

Suddenly someone is ringing a gong, and the entire room is falling silent. Everyone slips into their seats and looks toward the king, who sits on his throne next to Madge. They wait expectantly for him to speak.

"One week ago," he begins, his voice echoing off every wall in the room, "we won a war." He pauses so those in the crowd can clap. Madge smiles where she sits, trying her hardest not to join in the celebration. When their cheers die down King Undersee begins again. "Tonight, we honor those who have fallen. Those who gave their lives to make this a better world. And tonight, we honor those who are still with us. We honor those who risked everything they had at the small chance we had to make a difference. We celebrate life. We celebrate _freedom_."

Again, everyone is cheering. Madge cannot help herself from clapping a bit too, too caught up in the happiness that radiates around her to stay where she sits.

It's a simple ceremony, really. The first hour is spent reading off a list of the dead. Morbid, but necessary. There are tears. People cry. It's silent.

But after that, people are honored. Katniss Everdeen is first. "Today we celebrate Katniss Everdeen," King Undersee says, "for leading our people into the unknown bravely. We celebrate her wit and speed. We celebrate her inner rebel. We celebrate Katniss Everdeen for leading us to victory."

The people cheer. Katniss curtsies in front of the king, who then stands and crosses the room to her. King Undersee places his hands on her shoulders and nods, a proud smile on his face as though he knows her personally. He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pin. A tiny golden pin with a bird on it. He pins it to her dress and lets her go back to her seat.

The king also congratulates some others. Haymitch Abernathy. Delly Cartwright. Peeta Mellark. Sir Darius. Sir Thom. All names that ring familiar in Madge's head but she can never really identify them until they take the stage.

They all receive something. A pin. A medal. Something to commemorate what they've given to the kingdom. Something to remind them how thankful Madge and her family are for what they've done.

Madge starts to get antsy as the night drags on. Won't her father congratulate Gale? In fact, where is Gale?

But almost as if on cue, Sir Hawthorne emerges from the crowd. He marches to the front of the room where the king is and bows, lowering himself onto one knee.

Madge's heart beats rapidly in her chest as he sneaks a peek at her from the corner of his eye. She tries not to smile but she knows that she looks like a grinning buffoon.

"Lastly," the king's voice booms through the entire room, "I would like to award Sir Hawthorne. Not only is he one of the bravest most noble knights that is part of my militia, but he went above and beyond many of the others that contributed to our freedom." Gale drops his face down out of view a bit so Madge can't meet his eye anymore.

"He singlehandedly apprehended the men from Snow's kingdom that were going to take my daughter away." Madge pauses, turning her head toward her father. What? "He evacuated numerous villages on the outskirts of the kingdom that had been lit aflame in an attempt to distract our fighters, saving hundreds if not thousands of lives," King Undersee continues. "And most importantly, he fought on the front lines for the country, very much knowing that his life was at risk."

"That's my brother!" a little tiny voice shouts from the crowd. Madge turns and finds a small girl bouncing on her toes, trying to stare at the knight. Someone Madge can only assume to be the girl's mother, to be _Gale's_ mother, instantly shushes the small child. A few people around them laugh.

"Gale Hawthorne," King Undersee says, "you are a hero."

The crowd erupts into applause and cheers as Madge's father helps Gale up into a standing position again. He embraces him in a sort of hug, something that Madge thought was reserved for family or close friends, but it appears Gale now seems to fit into that category.

Madge claps too, tipping her head slightly at him with a bright smile on her face. She doesn't want to make herself seem too obvious.

* * *

The crowd disperses to the ballroom once the awards are all done and handed out. Madge's father is the one that leads her, though she wishes someone else would. Of course there are more places for her to sit there. She's down on everyone else's level now.

A band is brought in and plays the most delightful songs. Madge almost wishes she could join them, strumming along with her harp to the beat. But no, she's a princess and she must remain in her seat until someone comes up to her.

Of course, no one comes up to her.

Madge, though desperately wanting to slouch due to being overwhelmingly bored, sits tall in her chair. She makes idle conversation with her father about things that don't quite matter.

She watched out of the corner of her eye as everyone dances around the room. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark dance together. Haymitch Abernathy and one of Madge's servants Effie Trinket dance together. Sir Darius alternates through dance partners as though they're all boring and unpleasant. Madge can tell by the look on his face that he's enjoying himself very much.

Gale dances too, but instead of it being with any of the maidens who crave his affection, it's with his younger sister. She stands on his toes as they move in and out of the crowds of people. Madge can't help but smile.

It's strange to see this other side of Gale. She had known him to be brooding and snippy but also very determined and strong. Never once had she seen him so childlike than he is right now, spinning around his youngest sibling.

After a few songs with the girl Madge discovered is named Posy, Gale hands her off to one of his brothers. He talks with his mom a bit about something Madge can't hear and then disappears from her view for a while.

"Daddy," Madge turns to her father. "Did you know that the man you married me off to was not going to arrive?"

"If all had gone to plan, yes," he nods. He turns to his daughter. "Madge, I may be king but you're my only child. All I want is for you to be happy, no matter who it's with. I wouldn't marry you off, no matter what."

"I thought that's exactly what you had intended to do," Madge sniffs. Her father reaches over and squeezes his daughter's hand. "My whole _life_ that's what I thought you planned to happen."

"Not at all, Dear," he shakes his head. The king scans the crowd. "One day you will take throne. To be a good leader you must lead with someone whom you love. Not a stranger." Something tickles inside Madge's stomach. She's expected to be the leader someday. As if knowing Madge is filled with nerves her father turns to her. "Worry not, Love. You'll be a wonderful queen when the time comes."

"Do you believe that?" she asks.

"I do," he nods. "However, that won't be for some time. You still have a lot to learn. You still have to, oh what did you call it? Fall in love."

Madge laughs a bit, shaking her head at her father. "Perhaps."

Almost as if on cue a man emerges from the crowd. Madge's eyes find him immediately, whether it be due to his hulking figure or the fact that he's _him_ she doesn't know. Gale Hawthorne stands tall, donned in his uniform and the award her father had pinned to him earlier. Good gracious does he look handsome.

He makes his way over to the king and bows in front of him, waiting for permission to speak. "Enough of the formalities, Gale," the king waves at the knight. "We've had enough of those tonight, don't you think?"

"Of course, your majesty."

King Undersee lifts an eyebrow. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I'm not sure," Gale responds. His eyes stray over to Madge for a moment but return back to the king at once. She feels her entire body turning red. "Your majesty, I would like permission to court your daughter." Now both of the king's eyebrows are high on his forehead. "I know that I'm not a noble birth," Gale continues, "that all I've really got is my name and the clothes on my back, but I want a chance to prove my worth to her."

Madge can feel her hands sweating. She tries to drop her gaze from the interaction but she just cannot do it.

"Sir Hawthorne," the king starts slowly, "I grant you my permission." Madge actually has lost the ability to breathe. "However, if there ever comes a time in which my daughter wants you gone, you are gone. Is that understood?"

Gale pauses. "What if I wish to fight for her, Sir?"

King Undersee smiles. "We'll see."

He nods to Gale, who bows back, and then knight is walking forward. Toward Madge. He pulls a single flower out from behind his back that he's kept concealed this entire time, and it causes Madge to laugh. _I should court you_, he had said. _Ask your father for permission. Bring you flowers_.

Gale bows. "Princess," he says.

"Sir Hawthorne," she manages to squeak out.

He straightens his posture and smiles. "Madge," he adds softly.

"Gale."

The knight grins, stepping forward and handing her the flower. "For you," he says. Madge carefully takes it into her own hands and tries her hardest not to smile. She lifts it to her nose and inhales, hoping the scent will calm her some. "Princess," he says, "I was wondering if you would like to dance."

She lowers the flower to her seat and nods. "I would love to."

Gale offers her his hand and she takes it quickly, entirely too filled with happiness to say anything else. Madge peers over her shoulder at her father as Gale leads her to the dance floor and finds him smiling brightly at the two.

The knight carefully slides his hands around her waist and Madge loops her arms around his neck. The two sway slowly to the music. "I'm assuming your ankle is healed," Gale says.

Madge giggles. "Yes, it is. As well as your injury?" She knows that he sustained some sort of back injury during the battle. Madge hadn't wanted to ask too much. Gale nods and Madge lets out a deep breath. "Good. I'm glad to hear it."

Gale tightens his arms round her and Madge rests her cheek on his chest. "Is this okay?" he asks her.

"Much better than okay," she tells him. Gale chuckles, the sound entirely too heavenly for Madge. Whether it had been for a moment or not, Madge had considered her life if Gale had died in the battle. If he hadn't returned. Or if he had and just had not woken up. Or _maybe_ he was done with the entire prospect of royalty and wanted to move on to someone else. "I'm very glad you're back," Madge whispers.

"You ordered it," Gale says. He pulls away and tips her chin up toward him. "So it had to be done." She smiles as he brushes her hair from her forehead. His eyes don't even flicker up to the crown. "Did you worry for me?" he asks.

"Every day," Madge nods. She pauses. "Did you think of me?"

"Only every minute," Gale whispers. Madge blushes as he smiles brightly at her. "How could I not? You're admirable and brave and feisty and beautiful." Before she can help herself Madge is launching herself on her tiptoes, eager to press her lips to his. The kiss is quick but still makes Gale widen his eyes. "Good God your father'll kill me after all."

"Not a chance," Madge tells him.

Gale lifts his hands, his cheeks gently caressing her cheeks. "Such confliction," he murmurs.

Madge doesn't let him finish. "It isn't confliction at all."

Again she presses herself on her toes, desperately wanting to feel his mouth against hers. Instead of pulling away instantly Gale holds her close, allowing their kiss to last until they're both breathless. Despite the room being filled with many people, Madge can only see Gale.

Once everyone starts clapping Madge snaps away, embarrassed momentarily, but then she realizes that the crowd is just clapping for the band that had been playing the song. Gale grins and leans down, kissing her forehead once.

The two readjust how they stand and start to sway to whatever song is next. Only a moment after the song has started Madge feels someone tugging on her dress. She looks up at Gale who looks confused, and then down at the source of the pull.

On the floor stands a little girl with wide gray eyes. Very familiar gray eyes, actually. She looks entranced as she stares up at Madge.

"Posy," Gale suddenly says, "I told you that I'd bring the princess over to you. That you needed to wait."

"I know," the little girl squeaks. She looks so different from far away compared to up close. Much more animated. "But I just _couldn't."_

Madge laughs, lowering herself down to the girl. "Hi, Posy," she says softly. "Are you Gale's sister?" The brunette nods her head frantically, still unable to look away. "My name's Madge."

"You're the princess," she gasps and looks toward her older brother. "Gale! She's the _princess_!" Instantly Posy returns her gaze to Madge. "Oh. I mean. Hello your majek-sty."

Madge smiles, "You can call me Madge." The small Hawthorne grins and nods again, her hair toppling in every direction. "I've always wanted to meet Gale's siblings. Are you all here?"

Posy looks toward her older brother as if asking permission to answer. The knight nods and offers his hand to Madge, helping her back into a standing position. "Yes," Posy tells her. "Rory is dancing with Primrose though and I think Vick is eating the cupcakes because the icing is really really sweet!" She bounces on her toes. "Want to meet them, Princess?"

And now, Madge looks toward Gale. Perhaps she is the princess but that doesn't mean his opinion on the situation doesn't matter. Gale nods once and then reaches down, lacing his fingers with hers.

"I would love to," Madge says.

Instantly Posy is grinning again, a smile so bright and radiant it can only be one of a child. She leads the way through the crowd and Madge follows on her heels, Gale close behind. As they get closer Gale squeezes on her hand.

For a moment she's terrified about what's going to happen next. She's never heard a successful story of a knight and a princess. But then she reassures herself that things are changing every day. They can be the first.

Madge decides that love might not be for children after all.

* * *

_A/N: Fluffyish ending for you! This was oodles of fun to write and I hope you enjoyed it. I hope the ending satisfies you! Thanks for reading!_


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